Ashes to Ashes
by Chase998
Summary: The war has taken a new turn, with new players. Pilot talks to Holcomb about the past while Power deals with the future. Sequel to "Resurrection".
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a follow-up story to "Resurrection". I recommend you take the time to read that first, then "Ashes to Ashes". Otherwise, you're going to be sorely confused about some of the characters. Thanks! **

**Author's Note II: A few cosmetic changes, but no plot changes. Thanks! (9 Jun 06)**

**Chapter 1**

Dreams were a dangerous thing. Jon hated them. He felt out of control as the world took an even more surreal turn than it had in real life. Monsters rose up out of the ashes to attack him, to kill him and those around him. He was always defenseless. No matter the nightmare, he always lacked that which he relied on in the real world – his armor. He was vulnerable flesh and bone to the likes of Dread, his flesh easily pierced by whatever weapon his mind conjured.

The others in his dream were without protection, too. The team he had come to know as family was target fodder for the enemy or whatever monstrosity his imagination feared. They screamed in pain and bled until dead on so many nights that began taking Jon a few moments upon waking to orient himself to what was real.

The dreams, themselves, made no sense. They were of nothing more than senseless destruction. He had taken the time to analyze them and knew they were the product of what he saw every day. Still, he could not shake the fact that the faces he saw nightly belonged to people he cared about on his team and in the world. It seemed that whatever had affected him that day would worm its way into his subconscious that night, all completely out of his control. As much as he expected what he would see when his mind finally slipped over into the dreamscape of the mind, he simply had no control and was bound to experience the same horrors over and over again.

He awoke from just such a dream, his heart racing. He opened his eyes to utter darkness. It took a moment for him to realize where he was. Only after a moment did he remember Haven and its relative safety. With the door closed to his room, no light entered, enveloping him in darkness. He had no idea the time. Part of him did not care. No matter the hour, the war was still raging as it had been for years against Dread . . . except, he realized, it might not be. He turned on his side in the bunk, pulling up the blanket and curling into it. He thought about Dread. No one really knew the dictator's fate following what Jon considered a heroic act by Tobias. She had, in his opinion, given her life to save them all. At least, that was how Jon saw it. Hawk was no so convinced, and Jon knew better than to try to change the major's mind about the issue. Tobias had been a war criminal. The evidence of her crimes was an intense montage of bodies that had been mutilated and tortured in an effort to further Dread's empire. Jon could hardly argue the facts. Tobias was no help, admitting her guilt on several occasions in front of them all.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, suddenly wide awake. He reached for his chronometer on the bed stand. He toggled the light on the side. It was nearly four in the morning. He knew he should have been tired, only having slept six hours after all they had been through the day before, but he felt wired. His limbs twitched for activity. He stood and stretched, feeling blindly for the replacement dungarees Haven had provided him on their return. The long sleeved shirt was warm against the cold underground air. His feet slid softly into a pair of slippers, the comfort of which seemed foreign to him. Haven enjoyed luxuries he had not had in a long time. He felt guilt over using the amenities it provided when so many on the surface were barely staying alive.

Jon opened the door to his room. The halls were quiet. In the distance, he heard the mechanical thump of the legs of Mason and Dixon, Tobias' workhorses for Haven. She had customized them to take care of things while important work was being done. They did everything from take out the garbage to serve meals. It was still disconcerting to see them on the loose inside the secure facility, but no one seemed to mind their programmed meanderings through the base. They went about with hardly a notice from the human contingent they served. He passed by them in the hall, making way for their passage by pressing himself closely to the wall. They would have waited for him if he had kept moving forward. They were programmed to do just that – respect the authority and value of human life. It was such a contrast to what he was used to seeing with mechs. The mechs of the empire were programmed to be brutal, to kill and destroy on command. He supposed Mason and Dixon still possessed the same ability, but he trusted Tobias when she said the programming of these two had been changed. If there was anyone who would have known, Tobias was the one.

There was a small galley at the end of the hall. He passed by it, returning to it on a second thought. It had been so long since he had had a cup of coffee. Coffee, it seemed, was the lifeblood of Haven. It might as well have been – the ones who originally stocked the place had cached enough of it to supply a small town with a caffeine high for a year. Again, he had to push away the guilt as he poured a cup of it. It smelled wonderful. Hot and steaming, he breathed in the aroma with a deep inhalation. He took nothing in it, just enjoying the unadulterated taste of the liquid his father had lived on when researching late into the night.

Jon was in the hall again, walking without disruption. He headed for the medical ward, needing to check on his people and those entrusted to him by Tobias on the mission. Scout had been released a day earlier and was resting in his own quarters, though the medical staff had to invoke the chain of command through Jon to get the sergeant to rest. Kasich was still in critical condition, and the young fighter was using every excuse to be near her when he needed his own rest to recover. Jon understood Robert's need, for he shared them when it came to Pilot, but he also had to show Haven his ability to command and lead. He had worked too hard to sit back with complacency that it was someone else's turn. As long as there was a threat to humanity's survival, he would do what was necessary to secure the future of an entire race. He would command not only his people but those of Haven if a clear chain of command was not established soon.

He found himself at the door to Jennifer's room in the medical ward. He entered quietly, closing the door. He expected her to be asleep, but she turned and looked at him as he walked toward the bed.

"You should be sleeping," she said, her voice scratchy and weak. Her eyes looked tired, but as though they had seen too much sleep.

"So should you," he said quietly, a smile forming. He sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"Slept enough," she said.

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked, knowing the answer she would give would be a lie.

She turned gingerly in the bed to face him better. "Better than the first time. What time is it?"

"A little after four."

She said nothing for a moment. He could see the sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about Doctor Tobias," he said.

Jennifer's head seemed to sink further into the pillow as Tobias' name was mentioned. "I couldn't do anything to stop her, Jon. I tried, but I just couldn't."

He took hold of her hand to comfort her in her grief. "I know. She saved our lives."

"She changed mine," she said, closing her eyes. "I would never have left the Dread Youth without her."

"Sure, you would have," he said, believing it.

"No," Jennifer countered, opening her eyes again and looking at him. "She taught me to look with both eyes. That's something I had been raised my entire life to never do. She taught me to ask questions, to think for myself."

"She did a good job of it." Jon could see that it did little to comfort her in her loss. "It wasn't your fault," he said, looking deep into her eyes.

Her eyes closed again. "I should have known she was going to do it."

"I learned in a very short time that she had a mind of her own. She was a very determined woman," he said, trying to say the words with admiration.

Finally, a fond smile formed with Jennifer. When she opened her eyes, they held a brim of wetness. She looked up at the ceiling to keep it at bay. "You have no idea."

"I would imagine that's why Dread had such a problem with her."

"She really knew how to get on his nerves," she said, the tiniest laugh escaping her. "I didn't realize it so much when I was younger. But looking back on it now, she really drove him up a wall."

Jon smiled, too. "We should all be so lucky."

She became quiet and serious once more. "I never got a chance to thank you and the guys."

"Don't," he said, trying to ward off what he knew was coming.

"Jon," she said, "I would be dead if you hadn't come back for me."

He felt his face turning flush. His heart suddenly felt like a heavy weight in his chest. His mind raced back to the entire scene. "You don't understand." His head dropped. "I thought you were. We found you by accident."

"Then why did you come back?"

"Because . . ." He had difficulty finding his own voice. Then, he gained the courage to look at her once more. "Because I didn't want that to be your grave. I wanted to find something to bury far away from there, where it was still beautiful and that Dread hadn't touched."

"I don't think there's any place like that anymore."

"I would have found one," he vowed. "But now I don't need to. We have you back." _Tell her_, his mind chanted over and over. _Tell her the truth_. "I have you back."

His words caught her off guard. Jennifer's eyes began to glisten. The startling blue shimmered in the dim light of the lamp. "Jon, don't do this to yourself."

"I didn't know what you wanted to talk about before we left, but I think I know now."

"Jon, it's more complicated than that. I don't even know what I'm feeling. All of this is so new to me. I'm afraid I'm feeling the wrong things."

"Feelings aren't wrong. They just _are_."

"For you, yes. For me, I'm finding out there's so much more in this world. I don't understand most of it."

"No one's expecting you to get it all. Even people who weren't under Dread's control have a hard time figuring it all out."

Her frustration welled. "Not like this. I was brought up with a lifetime of being told that to care about someone other than the machine empire was wrong. I was told people like you were expendable, something that stood in the way of the ultimate way of the machines."

He was not sure exactly how to answer her claim, because it was true. He had heard enough to know the brainwashing Dread had done with the human beings in his service. The dichotomy was egregious at best.

"There was a time when it wasn't like this," he said. "People were free to think for themselves. We still are, even if Dread wants to believe we aren't."

"That's just it – I feel all these things and I think all these things, and I don't know what it all means."

"It means you're human," Jon said strongly. "You're among other human beings. You're not a part of Dread's world anymore. You were brought into our fold without a manual. There's no rulebook that tells you how all this is supposed to go."

She gave an ironic, sad smile. "As much as I hate to say it, it was easier to have to go by the rules of the Dread Youth. It all made so much sense at the time. Then Doctor Tobias blew it all away."

"She really had an influence on you, didn't she?"

"She opened my eyes, Jon. She made me see the truth."

"And what was that?"

"That life is precious, that the Dread Youth was a lie." Her voice trailed off as she finished.

"Yes, it is," he said, gently gripping her hand. "And I'm so thankful she showed you the way out of there."

She returned the gesture. "It was the easiest and most difficult thing I've ever done. I was never so afraid in all my life. Once I made the decision to leave, I knew there was no going back."

"Do you ever regret it – leaving, that is?"

She gave it a moment of thought. "Some mornings I wake up and expect to see my barracks in Volcania. It takes me a minute to realize where I am and who I am. I get afraid sometimes that I'll want to go back."

"I don't think you'd ever do that."

"How can you be so sure? I mean, what if there's something inside me that suddenly decides that Dread was right?"

"Because you've realized what it means to be a human being and not a machine," he said. "People are not objects. They have stories. They love and live. They rejoice and they grieve. A machine doesn't do that."

He wanted her to hear his words, to absorb the truth. He wanted to allay her fears, but the conversation was interrupted by the sound of alarms sounding down the hall. They both jumped at the signal. Medical alerts were ringing out in the hall.

His heart began hammering in his chest as he rose from the chair and headed for the door. The hall that had been quiet before was now occupied by a nurse and corpsman who rushed toward Meredith Kasich's room. He glanced back at Jennifer, who was craning toward the door for a better look.

"I'll be back," he promised. Then he, too, was making fast headway toward the room down the hall.

When he got there, he found that Kasich's bed had been laid flat. The nurse seemed calm but determined in her efforts in tending to the sergeant. The monitors continued to wail. Jon looked at the readings and knew what was happening. While machines were still breathing for the sergeant, the rest of her body had quit functioning.

Meredith Kasich was dying.

"Starting compressions," the nurse said to the corpsman. "Get Holcomb in here."

The corpsman did as ordered, turning on heel and nearly running Jon down in his efforts to get the doctor. Jon tried to recall the nurse's name. The name "Kilbeggan" came to mind as he stood there watching her work. She placed one hand on top of another and began pushing down on Kasich's sternum in an attempt to keep a dead heart moving blood.

"Anything I can do?" Jon asked tentatively from the doorway.

"Just stay out of the way," she said, though it was not with terseness. She said it matter-of-factly, as though it was Jon's only option to assist. Her concentration on Kasich was intense.

Kasich's thin frame shuddered, as though under assault by Kilbeggan's efforts. Her body shuddered with every compression by the nurse's hands. The monitors registered each push, the readouts spiking wildly as Kilbeggan pressed down on her patient's chest in a rhythmic count.

Jon watched, mesmerized, until Holcomb brushed past him and strode into the room with purpose.

"What do we have?" the doctor asked quickly.

"Pressure bombed," Kilbeggan reported as she continued the compressions. "She's been down two minutes."

"All right, hold up for a second. Let's see what we have," Holcomb ordered. They all looked at the monitors intently. "She's v-fib. Let's cardiovert and see what we get."

Jon moved deeper into the room, unable to tear his eyes away from the drama unfolding before him.

Kilbeggan tugged on Kasich's gown, pulling it down as Holcomb prepared one of Tobias' Dread gadgets. What Jon saw was shocking. Kasich's upper body was covered in streaks of scars. He knew immediately what they evidenced – torture. Her torso was covered in lines of skin that had healed without the help of medical aid. The violent scars crisscrossed in a sadistic pattern. At the curve of her back, he saw the medical applications Holcomb had employed following surgery to repair internal damage.

Holcomb leaned over her, placing a thin silver flexible disc on Kasich's chest, in the center. He activated the control panel on the surface of the disc. Tiny lights gave a reading, reiterating the signal on the monitors.

"Stand clear," Holcomb announced.

Kilbeggan held up her hands to show no contact with Kasich's body.

"Cardiovert, two-hundred," Holcomb ordered the device.

There were three beeping sounds from the disc. Then the device emitted a tiny snap. Kasich's body flinched as an electric shock was delivered. Holcomb intently watched the monitor.

"Nothing. Let's go again," he said. "Cardiovert, two-fifty."

Again, three beeps sounded. Kasich's upper body contracted as another impulse was sent through her. The respirator continued its work, pushing air into her lungs as Holcomb worked to bring her back to them. The monitor still showed no response.

"Dammit," he hissed. His hands covered the disc. He began pressing down as Kilbeggan had earlier. "Push the epinephrine," he ordered.

Kilbeggan complied, inserting a tiny vial into the device on Kasich's neck that matched the one that had saved Jennifer's life.

"Don't do this to me, Meredith," he encouraged quietly, continuing the compressions. "I've done too much work on you to quit now."

Jon saw the compassionate look on Kilbeggan's face as she watched the doctor try with passion to revive Kasich. She looked as though she shared his pain at Kasich's plight.

"Stand clear again," Holcomb ordered after viewing the monitors once more. Again, Kilbeggan backed away from the bed. "Cardiovert, three-hundred."

Kasich shuddered again, but there was a response this time on the monitors. It was slow at first, resisting Holcomb's efforts to bring her back among the living. Her heart rate dragged on the readout.

"Come on, Meredith," he said, adamantly, "you can do better than that."

Jon watched as the doctor put his hand to her head, stroking it with a gentle encouragement.

"Come back to us," Holcomb whispered. His thumb repeatedly grazed her temple, as though that was something he believed would allow her to hear his words.

Jon stood there, transfixed on the scene, seeing a different side of those who had run Haven. He saw Holcomb suddenly thrust into the role of lead doctor, replacing Tobias as suddenly as she was taken from their midst. It was entirely possible Holcomb had been capable of it all along, but Jon doubted it from what he had been told. Holcomb had stepped up to the plate to save one of his own. Kasich's vital continued to improve with his words and touch, as if there was something about his ways that was transcended modern medicine.

Holcomb's eyes closed in relief as Kasich's vitals improved with each passing second. What had been a death scene suddenly turned to a fight for life as she seemed to heed his words and grew stronger according to the monitor's readings. The doctor's head drooped in exhaustion of the moment. Kilbeggan moved in to remove the disc from Kasich's chest.

"Leave it," Holcomb ordered quietly. "We may need it later."

Kilbeggan backed off but pulled the gown carefully back in place on Kasich's body, once again covering the sergeant's secret past. To Jon, Holcomb looked like a man who had run a race. A thin sheen of sweat covered the big man's skin with the stress of the moment.

For the first time, Holcomb looked at Jon, almost as if for approval. Jon returned the look with admiration at the doctor's accomplishment, giving him a nod of congratulation. Power looked at Kasich again, seeing her worn body surviving with the help of machine technology, the very thing they fought against so vehemently. She had suddenly aged in a matter of minutes in Jon's eyes. Her youth seemed to be siphoned away by the ordeal. She suddenly showed her experience in the war, her trials and stress. Jon had envisioned her as a veteran of the war against the machines, but never so much so as how he saw her at that moment. This was not the first time she had experienced the pain of war. She had paid the ultimate price for the freedom of humanity. She had seen more than most, even those digitized by the likes of Soaron and Blastarr. Kasich had paid her dues but had continued the fight against impossible odds.

Holcomb stepped back from the bed, giving a few orders for tests to Kilbeggan. Then he neared Jon.

His gave the captain an almost curious look. "I didn't expect you to be in here."

Jon gave half a shrug. "I was in the neighborhood. I thought you said she was going to be okay?"

Holcomb looked back at his patient. A disappointed look crawled on his face. "She's always been a fighter, but I don't know if she has the drive in her this time." He turned to Power once more. "I'm not sure that I can keep her holding on, and frankly, I'm not so sure it's the right thing to do."

"What do you mean?"

Holcomb directed Jon out into the hall and closed Kasich's door. "I mean she's been through the wringer, Captain. You saw her – those scars are only on the surface. Her insides look like a reconstructive nightmare."

"She was tortured, wasn't she?"

Holcomb's jaw tightened with anger. "That's putting it mildly." His lips seemed to pull together more tightly as he recounted the incident. "It went on for days," he said almost in a whisper. "Dread tried everything he had on her, but she didn't break."

"I'm sorry," Jon said. "I didn't know."

"Look," Holcomb said with a sigh, "I have to get back in there. I'll catch up with you this morning, and we can talk about all this. Right now, I need to get her stabilized again and out of the red zone."

Jon nodded. "Understood. That was good work just now."

Holcomb looked solemn. "Unfortunately, I'm getting too much practice at it lately." He inhaled deeply, stifling a yawn. "Good night, Captain." With that, Holcomb shuffled back into Kasich's room.

Jon turned back toward Jennifer's room, wholly expecting her to be asleep. He found her wide awake, though. She was sitting up, waiting for him to return with news on Kasich.

"It was Kasich," he said, answering her unspoken question.

"Was it bad?"

He sat down in the chair next to the bed once more. "Yeah," he said. "She's holding on, though. Holcomb brought her back."

She hesitated. Her eyes had a fearful look in them. "When is this all going to end, Jon?"

"When we make it end," he said. "And then, we'll start over. We'll start rebuilding."

"I don't think we'll ever be able to stop it."

He disagreed. "We don't even know if Dread's alive."

She laid her head back on the pillow. "If there's a way, he is. Dread doesn't do anything without a failsafe plan."

"Doctor Tobias seemed to think he would die if the connection was severed."

She shook her head. "Until we have a body to bury, I won't believe it."

"No argument there," he said quietly. He waited a moment, wanting to carefully broach what was on his mind. "Jennifer," he said, taking her hand again, "what was it you wanted to talk to me about? Before we left on the last mission, you said it could wait."

"It's not important," she answered, dismissing his question. Her words echoed what she had said to him once already.

"I think it is," Jon pressed.

"Everything has changed, Jon," she said with a hint of desperation. "I have some things to work through before I know for sure now."

He wanted her to have her space, for it was only right. Still, he wished he had taken the time when she had first approached him. Now, he might never know what she wanted to say. It was a moment he had missed, an opportunity he had blown. She had reverted to her old ways, shutting down and keeping it to herself. He silently damned Dread's influence on the young woman who lay wounded in the bed.

Jon knew no words would be the right ones. "I want to help you. I want to be there for you when you need me, Jennifer."

"Just be there for the team and these people, Jon. They need you. They need a leader, now more than ever."

He had no idea how to rebut her dodge of his question.

Her eyes looked heavy. "I'm getting tired. I think I had better try to sleep." She gently squeezed his hand, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

He did not argue. He felt weariness settling in on his body, as well. He looked at her tired eyes and could only imagine how she felt in body and spirit. She may have been awake, but she was still in a hospital bed, recovering from a near-death state only three days earlier.

"I'll be down the hall if you need me," he promised.

She nodded in understanding. Jennifer turned her head away from him and settled down into the bed, grimacing against the soreness of movement until she found a comfortable position. He lingered for a minute until she was quiet. He backed away from the bed quietly, heading for the door. He looked back one last time at her, in hope that she had changed her mind. She remained facing away from him, though.

He stepped out into the hall and carefully closed the door, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to wait to know what she wanted to say to him. He would be patient. He would wait for as long as it took to learn what he missed when the first opportunity had presented itself. Jon vowed he would never again miss the chance to listen to her again. He had her back, and he did not intend to lose her ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jennifer awoke later the next morning with an ache in her left wrist that pounded with each beat of her heart. The silver cast that surrounded the injured bones and tissue underneath hummed as it continued its work to heal. She wiggled her fingers, glad to see she still had the ability to move them.

Her thoughts went to the early morning hours when Jon had come to see her. She thought about him wanting to know what she had wanted to say before Dread's attack on the base. It was too late to tell him, she knew. Everything had changed. She doubted she would ever get a handle on the thoughts and emotions raging within her. In her heart, she knew he could never understand what she had been through, the constant war that raged in her mind and heart. Dread's legacy lived on in her, no matter how she tried to fight it.

The door to the room opened. Holcomb shuffled in, hands shoved into the pockets of his lab coat. He looked exhausted, completely spent over the events of the last few days. He sat down heavily in the chair next to the bed and leaned back with slumped shoulders.

"How are you doing today?" he asked.

She looked at his tired face, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "About as worn out as you look," she said, trying to be kind.

"My medical professors tried to warn me there would be days like this."

"Something tells me you got more than you bargained for when you decided to be a doctor."

He shrugged slightly. "It has had its rewards. I've been able to make a difference in the war."

"I think we'd all like to be able to say that."

He leaned forward and reached out to the fingers of her left hand, palpating them. His touch was warm against her cold skin.

"Helene always thought you made a difference," he said. His looked sad as he said the words. "Try to make a fist for me."

She carefully curled her fingers in toward her palm, grasping his hand as tightly as she could before the pain was too much.

"Good. Your strength is better today," he said approvingly.

"Wish I could say the same about the pain," she said, trying to bring her racing heart under control.

"Unfortunately, as much as I'd like to give you something for it, I don't think it's wise. The drug we gave you before was experimental. Helene was good, but even she had her reservations. I'd rather hold off until it gets really bad."

Jennifer knew she was one of the few that shared his pain at the loss of the biggest traitor to Dread's empire. "You two were good friends, weren't you?"

He smiled fondly, as though a memory filled his mind. He sat back in the chair. "She was certainly unique. She taught me a lot as a doctor. It's ironic when you think about it."

"How so?"

"She worked all those years for Dread and ends up teaching me how to save lives instead of taking them."

Jennifer sat up straighter in bed to better look at Holcomb. "How did she come here? The last I knew, she was being put on display by Dread as a warning to everyone who thought about going against the empire."

"I'm not sure where my part fits in to all of that. She didn't talk about her research days too much. Why don't you tell me where you began with her, and I'll fill in the rest."

With that, Jennifer began to tell the story.

Volcania Three years earlier 

Volcania's halls bustled with activity as the Dread Youth hurriedly prepared for assembly in the large hall. Lord Dread was going to personally address them, an honor as far as Youth Leader Chase was concerned. She had been dismissed early from her duties to prepare. Lord Dread was going to inspect the ranks, to see for himself how the Youth had been maintaining their forces.

She had made sure her uniform was crisp and orderly, for surely his eye was going to be sharp as he looked them over for flaws. Flaws were unacceptable. She turned toward her private quarters. Her own room was a reward for rising in the ranks of the Dread Youth. She had carefully passed all her tests, demanding perfection of herself when questioned about the philosophy of the empire and the regulations regarding the conduct of a Dread conscript.

Jennifer looked in the mirror. She inspected her hair to make sure no strands had strayed from the perfect braid that held it in place. She adjusted her cap when she observed it was off about two degrees to the left. Her quarters, should it come to it, were always ready for inspection. She kept no mementos of her career. It _was_ a career, she told herself. She could see herself as an overunit some day, commanding mech soldiers and mentoring future Youth in the lessons of the empire. She would lead the charge in the field to rid the world of the rebels that threatened the perfection of Lord Dread's vision for it.

Her life of late had been good. She had made great strides in gaining responsibilities in the corps. She was a squad leader already, an unprecedented position for someone of her age. Jennifer had always strived to be the ideal soldier, and the hard work had paid off in getting where she wanted to be faster than anyone around her.

The base intercom beeped in her quarters. "Youth Leader Chase, report to the Great Hall at once."

Her blood ran cold. Had she done something wrong? She inventoried her actions in the last few weeks. She could not think of a single thing she had done that had so much as resulted in a scolding from her superiors. Her work had been exemplary. She had done everything she could to motivate the Youth around her. Perhaps that was it, she thought. Perhaps she had not tried hard enough and was now about to be punished for her inadequacies as a leader. Jennifer pushed away the thoughts raging in her head. She had been given an order, and she followed orders better than anyone.

She stepped out into the hall again, amid the throng of other Youth preparing for inspection. She turned toward the tram that would take her to the Great Hall. Her heart thumped in her chest in anticipation. The Great Hall was where Lord Dread conducted his affairs. Dread Youth were seldom granted the privilege of even approaching it. She was now told to directly enter it. For what reason, she did not know. Surely, it was for punishment. Lord Dread did not personally grant audiences to Youth members. They had simply not earned the right to even gaze upon their lord. Her mind froze with that thought. How was she to interact with those inside the Great Hall? No one had ever given a lesson to a Youth on how to conduct affairs in the nerve center of the empire. Should she look a person in the eye, avert her gaze? No, she decided quickly. She would stare straight ahead, as when being inspected. She would remain at attention until told otherwise. Her answers, should she be required to give any, would be short and standard. The language of the empire was specific, and she would show anyone who would see her that she had earned her position as Youth Leader and was worthy of more responsibility.

The tram slid smoothly through the tunnel toward the Great Hall. The car she was in was empty except for a guard stationed at its door. It had let her pass when she boarded without incident, identifying her and correlating her presence to the order that had been issued. Again, her heart began to race as she watched the tram's progress toward its destination. When it arrived, the doors slid open. Jennifer stepped out into the receiving area of the hall. All the bravado she had felt in her quarters suddenly slipped into oblivion as she took in the impossibly high ceilings. The red symbol of Lord Dread hung from the rafters. Her pride blossomed as she took in the sight. She had dedicated her life to all that the symbol represented. She would some day serve it fully, bringing out the perfection of the machines to all who failed to see the mission of the Dread empire.

She took purposeful steps forward toward Overunit Balash who waited at the doors leading into the hall. The medallion around his neck gleamed in the dusky lights of the anteroom. She judged him to be no more than a few years older than she, but she knew him by reputation. He had been another exemplary product of the Dread Youth, rising through the ranks as quickly as she desired for herself. Now, here he stood at the doors leading to the Great Hall, most likely having met their lord on many occasions.

He held up his hand as she neared him. Jennifer stopped exactly three steps away from him and brought herself to attention with a sharp clacking of polished boot heels coming together. Her back was straight as she stood waiting for instruction from the overunit.

"Youth Leader Chase," he said, "you're prompt. That's good," he congratulated. "You will be meeting with your lord in a few moments. You are expected to conduct yourself in the greatest tradition of the Dread Youth."

He circled her, inspecting her appearance. He lowered his voice. "Answer our lord when he asks a question, but be brief. He has no time for rambling, especially from a Youth. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Overunit."

He finished his orbit around her and faced her once more. "Wait here while I announce you."

He turned on his heel and opened the large door of the Great Hall. He closed them once inside, leaving her all alone in the anteroom. The rumbling of the air through the ventilation system was the only sound she heard as she stood there at attention. She wished she had not had to wait so long. Her heart began racing again with anticipation of why Lord Dread would request her personal presence in the Great Hall.

The wait seemed to be an eternal one before Balash reappeared and beckoned her toward the door. She strode forward in perfectly measured steps, just as she had been trained. The sound of her boots on the polished floor reverberated as she entered the door, dutifully following Balash. The inside of the Great Hall was not as she expected. It was smaller than she imagined it would be. The corridors were low, not much different than what she saw daily in the other parts of Volcania. In a way, it was almost a disappointment. She had envisioned something much grander, in line with Lord Dread's power and stature. A few mechs milled about the halls, most guarding their lord. A few overunits conducted administrative duties at desks located at different intervals down the hallway.

They came to another set of doors that were flanked by two heavily armed mechs. They came to attention as Balash approached. The overunit stopped for a only a few seconds until the large doors slid open before them. Balash proceeded into the next room. Jennifer followed. When she saw what was inside, the air in her lungs seemed to vanish. In the corner sat an orb. It glowed with a slight orange tinge. She stared at it in awe, knowing it was Overmind, the most powerful artificial intelligence ever created. She had learned of its power in her lessons, but had never been privileged to see it personally. Surely, this alone was an honor.

Only then did she look around the room with her eyes while still following Overunit Balash. She saw the steps of the throne, daring only once to glance at the man who sat at the pinnacle of the mount. Lord Dread sat there, waiting for his visitors to come to attention in front of him.

Balash stopped. Chase followed dutifully, keeping her eyes trained on the back of the overunit's head.

"My lord," Balash announced, "Youth Leader Chase reports as requested."

Jennifer desperately wanted to look up at Lord Dread, but knew it would be a terrible mistake. She kept her eyes forward. She could see him sitting in his chair, slightly to the side, relaxed and in charge. He waved for Balash to step aside so he could better view her.

"Youth Leader Chase, welcome to the Great Hall," he said in a gravelly voice.

She managed to find her own voice. "Thank you, my lord."

"Do you know why you have been summoned?"

Her shoulders straightened in pride. "I am here to serve whatever needs my lord desires."

Her heart tripped as he stood from his chair and walked down the short flight of steps to the floor where she stood at attention. He circled her, inspecting her as she had anticipated. In the back of her mind, she was grateful she had straightened her cap, for surely he would have noticed. She had been waiting for this moment her entire life. She had no intention of failing the test.

"Your service has been exemplary," he complimented. "Exemplary service is rewarded when so deserved. You are hereby being reassigned."

Though she knew she should have been elated, she felt disappointment. Graduation was soon approaching. She feared she was going to be reassigned to something that would take her off the track to promotion. She worked to keep her eyes focused straight ahead despite Lord Dread's announcement.

"Your studies have been in mechanical research, have they not?" he questioned.

"They have, my lord," she responded.

"You've done well in your lessons, both as a leader and a student. It's time for you to put that knowledge to use."

"As you wish, my lord," she said.

He began circling her again. "What do you know of Doctor Helene Tobias?"

"Helene Tobias," she answered, as she would have in a graded test, "lead biosystems researcher, specializing in cybernetics and medical interventions." She easily placed the woman's face from the texts of her lessons.

"Yes, yes," he said, almost impatiently. "I'm reassigning you to assist her."

His words came as a surprise. In a million years, she would never have guessed Lord Dread would have uttered them. Helene Tobias was an icon of development research. Most waited years just to be able to enter her lab. Now, Jennifer was being assigned to the doctor as a research assistant.

"This will be no ordinary assignment, however," he continued. "You will observe Doctor Tobias's research and report directly to me on her progress."

Confusion gripped her. "My lord?" she said, completely disregarding protocol. She could not help it, though. His orders were unclear.

"You will look for anomalies in her research and report your findings on a regular basis. I want you to observe her and assist as she requests. Once a week, you will report to me directly concerning her progress and research methods. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," she said, though it was not exactly the truth. In fact, she was completely confused as to why he would want to spy on his top researcher. Helene Tobias had been in the service of Lord Dread for many years. She could not imagine that the doctor would betray the vision of the empire.

"You are not to speak of this assignment to anyone, under any circumstances. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord."

He examined her one last time, sizing up the young soldier he had tasked. "Return to your regular duties. Report to the lab at the start of the day tomorrow morning," he ordered.

"Understood," she said. She gave a dip of her head in respect of his authority and turned to leave. Overunit Balash fell in step behind her, escorting her back to the tram in the anteroom.

The assembly later that day should have been a grand event, but Jennifer's mind was on Lord Dread's assignment for her. She could not recall the content of Lord Dread's speech to the Youth for all her excitement. She had been ordered not to speak of the assignment. Still, in her heart, she wanted to tell her comrades of her new honor as Lord Dread's observer. His orders had been explicit, though. She could not speak to anyone of her new orders. In reality, though, it was a moot point. She did not lean toward making friends. Friends were dangerous, a liability in the quest for promotion. They could easily betray trusts, and that was unacceptable. She only wished her contemporaries could see what hard work and dedication could get a Youth Leader, even before graduation to the regular ranks of the Dread Forces.

She had been training to fly. Jennifer loved the science of flight. She dreamed of sitting in the cockpit of a Phantom Striker, gliding through the air in one of the new craft being developed for the fleet. The air service had been in the process of being organized. The actual building of the ships had been taking place for over a month, but it was expected to take until the rest of the year to have a functional squadron. Once completed, it would be a major addition to the already effective mechanized forces of the Dread empire. Air support would augment the work of ground troops to effectively bring rebel uprisings under control. Competition to enter the flight program was fierce. She only hoped her special assignment for Lord Dread would expedite her transition to pilot training.

Jennifer had already earned some flying privileges as a reward for her diligent studies and service. She was qualified to pilot small cargo carriers on short hops, but she longed for the heavy combat skills the Phantoms could offer. She wanted to feel the g-forces that would push her down into the seat in a tight turn, as she made sharp strafing runs at a target. Glory was in her future. She had earned it, she felt. It was to be the prize for her years of obedience to the throne of Lord Dread throughout her childhood.

That night, she lay in her bed fast forwarding time and what her future held. The assignment to oversee the work of Doctor Tobias seemed simple enough. She doubted there would be much to report. The doctor had been faithful in service of the empire for longer than Jennifer had been alive. It seemed absurd that there was a question of the woman's loyalty. Her work was the subject of much of the scientific lessons taught to the upper students in the Youth. It was required reading, in fact. Being the dedicated student she was, Jennifer could practically quote Helene Tobias's resume from memory. No one had surpassed the doctor's accomplishments.

Jennifer's mind was restless with all the thoughts zooming left and right. Underneath it all was a comforting satisfaction that hard work had paid off in a big way. All of the sacrifices she had made in her early years were worth the pain and anguish. The lost nights of sleep were but a distant memory now. She was on her way to her future, much more quickly than her counterparts. They would some day view her as subordinates, as she quite confidently predicted her meteoric rise in rank.

At some point, she drifted off to sleep, reveling in the satisfaction of her being tapped by Lord Dread, himself. When she awoke, she bolted out of bed with a start. Had it all been a dream? She went to the desk in the corner of her small quarters and checked the duty log for the day. It was true – she had been reassigned to Helene Tobias's lab. She was slightly behind her normal schedule for showering and dressing. Then again, there would be no inspection this morning. She was now embarking on a new assignment. She checked the duty log again, confirming that her day would now start a half hour later than the rest of the cadets in the corps. No one would question why she was not lined up for inspection, no one would miss her at the morning meal in her assigned seat. Her youth squad would probably wonder where its leader was, but that was a concern for the overunit, not her. The squad would most likely be absorbed into other squads, breaking up one of the most efficient teams in the class.

She inspected herself in the mirror for the fourth time since dressing. Her uniform was perfectly adjusted. The khaki shirt she wore would soon be replaced with the dress gray of the regular forces. Her passage into adulthood would be complete. Her assignment to Helene Tobias was monumental.

Jennifer took a deep breath, steeling herself for the day ahead of her. With one last glance into the mirror, she turned and entered the hall outside her quarters. She walked in the quiet corridors. The rest of the cadets had assembled for inspection. She was alone as she made her way to the research hubs of Volcania. There was more activity there, with lab assistants and some maintenance mechs milling about the receiving area. It was pristine and clean. High ceilings were sheathed in a shiny chrome-like covering that reflected the movement of those below it in a grotesque reproduction. Sound seemed to repeat in several intervals before it died off completely. She passed by the workers in the receiving area without incident. No one questioned her presence in the area, even though it was not common for a Youth member to be allowed into the section unescorted.

Then she was at the door to Helene Tobias's lab and office. She was just about to touch the identification panel by the door when a voice called out behind her.

"You there – what are you doing?"

It was an authoritative voice. Jennifer immediately snapped to attention and turned stiffly toward the source. It was one of the researchers. A flash of fear washed through her. She beat it away, not willing to ruin her best chance for an impression before she had even met the extraordinary Helene Tobias.

She walked over to the researcher in three quick strides, coming to attention in front of him. He was thin, his lab coat hanging on his frame with inefficiency. His black hair was thinning prematurely, combed over the patch of exposed skin on the top of his head. His nose pointed forward at her, equally accusing her of trespass.

"Youth Leader Chase, reporting to Doctor Tobias on assignment," she said efficiently. Her back was erect, her posture perfect.

He reviewed her, skeptical. Then he said, "Right, you're the new meat for the grinder."

It caught her off guard. Her perfect posture softened. "Sir?"

He laughed with amusement. "Let's see," he said looking up in thought, "you're assistant number four." His eyes returned to her. "And judging by the looks of you, I'd say you won't last any longer than the rest of them."

She heard a door open behind her but did not turn to see who it was. A superior was still addressing her, and she had no intention of giving him ammunition to ruin her future. Footsteps closed in on her as she stood there, returning to attention. The steps stopped right behind her. She could feel the rush of displaced air on her neck as the person stopped.

"I assume you have work to do, Doctor Peterson?" a woman's voice said. It was gravelly but refined. The words were pointed, aimed at the man standing in front of Jennifer.

Chase felt as though she was standing in the middle of a battlefield, unprotected and unable to take shelter under the volley of tension raging over her.

Doctor Peterson stiffened at what seemed to be a superior's dressing down of him. His demeanor, though tolerant, was hardly fearful. "Your new assistant seems to have arrived, Doctor Tobias."

The sound of the doctor's name sent a cold sensation through Jennifer's arms and hands. The doctor was standing right there. It was not the first impression the cadet wanted to make on her new superior. Her whole plan was in disarray.

"The consoles in the sanctuary need calibration. I've set today's schedule to have it finished by noon. Your name is assigned to the task," she said, not giving him any slack.

"Noon?" Peterson said in complaint. His composure seemed to crumple. "That's less than four hours away!"

"Then you're wasting precious moments by disrupting this cadet's day, aren't you? Move along, Doctor."

His shoulders slumped in what Jennifer sensed as anger and disappointment. It was clear that recalibration of the sanctuary's consoles was not a coveted job, nor was the timeframe adequate in which to complete the job. She had no idea what the function of the consoles was in the sanctuary, but from the doctor's reaction, she could tell it must not have been a glorious job. He sulked away, his shoulder slumping in a fashion that would have brought retribution from an overunit had one been in charge of him.

"Turn around," Doctor Tobias said without enthusiasm. "Let's see what they've sent me."

Jennifer turned perfectly on heel, remaining at attention as she came face to face with Helene Tobias. The woman looked just as she had in their lessons. Her hair was short and sandy, graying ever so slightly at the temples. She was taller than Jennifer, but not by much. Unlike Doctor Peterson, who wore a white lab coat, Doctor Tobias wore a dark robe that reminded Jennifer of clan garb that they sometimes found refugees wearing when they were apprehended by patrols.

Doctor Tobias seemed to take inventory of Jennifer's features. She frowned, raising her brows with a dismissive shake of her head. "The only thing you're missing is a decent set of servos."

Jennifer was confused by the doctor's words. The meaning was lost on her as she stood there in what was fast becoming an uncomfortable moment. She had not expected this kind of reception from the greatest mind aside from Lord Dread in all the empire. She had no idea how to proceed.

Tobias sighed. "Follow me," she said, turning back to the lab. "And relax that back of yours a little. You'll put it out if you keep goose stepping all your life."

The lab was the antithesis of what Jennifer expected. She had pictured a pristine work area, one that reflected the order of the empire. Instead, she found the entire room in disarray. Every surface had something on it. There were data pads piled in one spot while other spaces were piled with what seemed to be half-started projects that had not been attended to in some time. In contrast to the reception area, the lab's lighting was subdued. Soft yellow rained down in trapezoids on the work areas, casting confused shadows around the projects.

Tobias continued into the room and sat down behind a large desk on the far side. Jennifer dutifully followed until she came to a stop in front of the desk. The doctor began sifting through the data pads that were piled on the desk. She stopped after a moment and looked up at Chase.

"Sit," she said, sounding annoyed.

Jennifer found a chair close by and sat down in it, keeping her posture proper.

Tobias, in contrast, sat back lazily in the chair. "What's your name?"

"Youth Leader Chase."

Tobias did not seem impressed. "Your first name?"

"Jennifer," she answered tentatively. No one had ever asked for her first name. It was not usually necessary. Her title had always been enough.

"Jennifer," Tobias repeated, as though committing it to memory. "And what do you like to study, Jennifer?"

"I am proficient at mechanical and aeronautical studies," Jennifer announced proudly.

"That's not what I asked," Tobias said with a corrective tone. "What do you _like_ to study?"

Chase found herself blinking a few times more than normal. She was not sure if Tobias was testing her. Perhaps this was a test of Lord Dread. What one liked or did not like was inconsequential. It was a matter of how one best served the empire. Still, a superior had asked her a direct question. To not answer it would have been disobeying.

"I like . . . to fly," she answered carefully.

Tobias nodded with satisfaction. "To fly," she repeated. "Understandable. Quite a bit of freedom in the sky, isn't there?"

Jennifer wanted to disagree. It had nothing to do with freedom. It had to do with so much more. A good squadron followed rules and tactics. A good pilot did not yearn for freedom. A good pilot did not give a second thought to freedom. Again, though, she was at a loss in how to answer the doctor.

It was like Tobias sensed her distress. "But this is no hangar, and these work tables are no ships."

"I'm here to assist you in your research," Jennifer said, trying to extricate herself from the line of questioning.

"So you are," Tobias agreed. She paused a moment, once again studying the young woman across the desk. "You can start by cleaning off the work tables."

Finally, an order Chase understood, if only partially. "Would you like the objects cataloged in any particular order?"

"No," Tobias said slowly, "I want them thrown out. Take everything on the tables and put it down the garbage chute."

The order was so odd. "Everything?" Jennifer asked, disbelieving.

"Everything," Tobias said solidly. "And each table should be sterilized afterward. You'll find fluids in the cabinet over there," she said, casually pointing to the right.

Jennifer stood from the chair and turned to look out at the worktables. She took a quick inventory of what was on them. Even with a cursory glance, she could easily appreciate the genesis of research each pile represented. The intelligence behind it all was elegant and precise. She could not contain her curiosity.

"Doctor Tobias," she asked carefully, "isn't this all active research?"

"Every bit of it," Tobias said confidently.

"I don't understand. Why would you destroy it?"

"Because I can," Tobias said, making the matter all the more confusing. "Begin."

Jennifer had been given an order. Still confused, she began to comply. A mobile bin was waiting in the corner, though it was nowhere near what she had envisioned she would be doing in terms of assisting a great mind such as Helene Tobias. Table by table, she began carefully clearing off the pieces of research. Occasionally, she would sneak a detailed look at one piece or another, marveling at the architecture of design before placing it in the bin. More than once, she checked out of her periphery to see if Tobias was observing her, but the doctor sat behind the desk reading data pads and making notes.

Tobias looked intently at the pads, studying what was on them, making corrections at a quick pace on them. Jennifer wanted nothing more than to see what was so important on them that had the doctor's attention. Tobias was transfixed by the information and remained so for literally three straight hours.

When she finally looked up from them, she took inventory of Jennifer's work. The worktables had been cleared, and she had already started sterilizing the surfaces.

"It's time for your midday meal," she said singsong-like, her tone bordering on patronizing.

Jennifer was anything but hungry. Her mind had been consumed with the events of the day thus far, trying to make sense of what she had been assigned to do.

Tobias tapped a command panel on the desk. "Mason, bring lunch."

Less than thirty seconds later, the door to the lab slid open. A mech entered carrying a tray. It was a surprising scene. Most of the mechs Jennifer had ever seen were battle ready, armed and ready to follow orders to fulfill the destiny of the empire. This one, though, was unarmed – unless a food tray could be considered a weapon. It clanked into the room, carrying the food. It placed the tray on Tobias's desk.

"Thank you, Mason. Dismissed," Tobias said.

It was yet another curious event of the day. Jennifer had never heard anyone converse with a mech. They were machines that ran on programs. They did not have emotion. They did not interact with their masters. Only a few had voice capabilities. Yet, here was Tobias thanking it for its service.

"Come," she called to Jennifer. "Eat."

Chase dutifully reclaimed her chair across from Tobias. Tobias placed the meal in front of Jennifer, taking a sandwich for herself afterward.

"How long will it take for you to pack?" Tobias said after swallowing the first bite of the sandwich.

The question caught her off guard. "To pack, Doctor Tobias?"

"You'll be accompanying me to the Alaceda research facility tomorrow morning. How much do you need to pack?"

"The Dread Youth do not have personal possessions," she said, trying to sound proud of the fact. "We are capable of moving out in less than thirty minutes."

Tobias put her sandwich on the plate. "No personal possessions at all?"

"Lord Dread provides us with all we need," she replied. "The fulfillment of destiny begins . . . "

"Begins with simplicity," Tobias finished with a bored tone. "Yes, I'm aware of the doctrine. Then again, you are the model youth leader, aren't you? I should have known."

Jennifer resisted the urge to question the doctor's comment. She was not sure if it was meant as an insult or a statement of fact, though she sensed the doctor's weariness with the doctrines was deep-seated. She continued to consume her meal. They sat there in silence until it was complete.

Tobias sat there, once again studying Jennifer. It created a foreign and uncomfortable feeling as the doctor seemed to be cataloging the young woman's features as though for future reference.

"Once you've finished cleaning the rest of the tables, you're dismissed for the rest of the day."

It was not an order Jennifer expected. "The rest of the day?" Free time was unheard of in the corps. "I'm assigned to you for another five hours."

"Then that's five hours you have to pack and wonder about where you're going. That reminds me," she added, "you're a qualified pilot, aren't you?"

"I have an expert rating for type two ships," she said, mindfully keeping her pride in check.

"Of course you do," Tobias said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Have your belongings brought to the hangar in the morning and report here. While you may not have any personal possessions, I do, and I don't trust a mech to carry them."

Jennifer rose from the chair when Tobias indicated she should get back to work. There were only a few tables that remained. The process of cleaning them was completed in acceptable time. She asked Tobias again if there was more work to be done, but the doctor was insistent that the day was done. She sent Jennifer out of the lab.

When Jennifer returned to her quarters, she found herself at a loss as to what to do for the rest of the day. Her mind was full of questions and what she finally decided was disappointment. Her first day with Helene Tobias had been anticlimactic, to say the least. Then there was the prospect of being transferred to a new place. Jennifer had never known anything outside Volcania. She knew there were other outposts and stations, but she had never dreamed she would be seeing them so soon. She tried to imagine what Alaceda looked like but found it difficult. She had never heard of such a place. The location did not exist according to the computers, which was not unexpected if the facility was classified. She had no idea what its purpose was or why Doctor Tobias was suddenly transferring them there. As a precaution, Jennifer put a stop to her imagination. It was useless and inefficient to give such thoughts time or energy.

What she did, in fact, find useful was the time to pack. She had not lied to Tobias that she could be ready to move out in thirty minutes, but the feat was difficult. It took time to pack a bag correctly. Each shirt should be folded with precision so as to avoid wrinkles when unpacked. She began packing her bag, emptying her closet of its contents. Shined boots were carefully folded down into the bottom of the bag. Shirts and pants were piled in order. Undergarments were tucked carefully down the side of the stack.

Soon, the bag was packed, save one clean uniform for the next morning. Her quarters looked empty once she had emptied every drawer and cabinet of their contents. Jennifer sat on the edge of the bed, viewing it all with a strange sense of emptiness. She had known her quarters for two years. It had been one the rewards for perfect test scores, perfect conduct, and perfect performance as a youth leader. Now, she had no idea what her new quarters would be. She had not been told where she was going or what she would be doing.

There was also the issue of reporting to Lord Dread directly. She had been so caught up in the events of the day that she had forgotten to record a journal of all that had happened. On the other hand, she considered, there was not much to report unless the fact that Tobias had suddenly thrown out all her research was significant.

Jennifer sat down at the small desk in the corner and called up a new journal entry on the small terminal there. She began the video recording, recounting the day. It did not take long. She gave the highlights of what had occurred, withholding the tiny details because she was unsure the depth in which her lord wished her to report.

By the time she had finished the first entry, it was time for the last meal of the day. She reported to the dining hall and chose to sit alone. As she expected, her squad had been absorbed into others. Individuals now sat with other groups, in new places away from their previously assigned table. She endured a few stares from her contemporaries. Most were curious, but no one asked her any questions. No one talked to her at all. When she considered it all, there was not one among them she could call a close friend. Friends were dangerous, capable of betrayal. The best members of the corps were the ones who maintained their distance from the others. She was just such a member.

Chase returned to her quarters following the meal and lay down on her bunk after readying herself for bed. Though the work of the day had not been overly strenuous, she still found herself exhausted. Her eyes burned, ready for sleep. Still, her mind churned with thoughts, questions buzzing left and right like insects. She tried to swat them away and think of something else, but they persisted. Finally, she ignored them entirely, giving herself over to the dark world of sleep, knowing it would bring about the following day more quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She awoke with a start as her alarm buzzed in successive chirps. Jennifer usually was awake enough to wait for it, feeling efficient and proactive as she waited even a few minutes for it to sound. This morning, though, she had slept right through it. Her dreams had been vivid. It was strange to see Helene Tobias invading them. Her face was an enigma to the youth leader. What she had known of the woman had been completely displaced in just one day's time of direct contact.

She showered and dressed, checking her appearance once last time in the mirror before entering the hall. A transport mech arrived on schedule to collect her bag and take it to the flight hangar. As instructed, Jennifer took the tram back to the research lab area. Tobias was waiting for her in the reception area. She was leaning against the wall near the lab door, arms folded, casually resting against the gleaming exterior. Today, though, the reception area was void of activity. There were no scientists milling about, no maintenance mechs running supplies.

Jennifer glanced at the chronometer on the tram before exiting. She was perfectly on time. No one could claim she was either early or late for her meeting with Tobias. She was exactly on time, as trained and expected.

The cadet walked with confident strides toward the doctor, her footsteps echoing off the walls in sharp staccato clicks.

"Good morning, Jennifer," Tobias said, still leaning on the wall. "Sleep well?"

Again, it was another question Jennifer was not prepared to hear. She had learned that dreams were the byproduct of the brain's processing imagery of previous days. For all she had ever known, it was. She never gave it a thought until the doctor had asked.

"Very well, thank you," Jennifer answered politely. She stood at attention before Tobias, awaiting orders.

"Come, then," she said. "Things to move, grouchy lords to please."

With that, she turned and opened the lab door. Just inside, on the tables Jennifer had diligently cleaned the day before, sat two containers of what she assumed were the personal belongings of Tobias. The lids were sealed. Tobias directed her to one of the crates, instructing her that it was to be transported very carefully.

To the right, two mechs stood awaiting instructions. Tobias turned her head toward them.

"Mason, Dixon, follow," she ordered.

The two mechs came alive, marching after them like obedient pets.

Together, the group moved the crates to the tram in the reception area. Tobias and she placed them on the floor and activated the tram. It pulled out and wound its way around the northern arc of Volcania to the flight hangar. When it stopped, they were at the entrance to the where the fleet of cargo ships sat. Jennifer picked up the box Tobias had assigned her to carry and exited the tram. Mason and Dixon took up the rear, carrying nothing, not seeming to perform any function.

The flight hangar was considerably busy. Crews prepared cargo ships for the day's runs. Tobias led the pack toward one on the far end of the flight line. It was being prepared for flight. Jennifer stole a look inside the cockpit but found no pilot. It piqued her curiosity. She had developed a reputation as a talented pilot, but she was still not permitted to take a ship on her own, not until she had completed her Youth training. Still, the flight chiefs frequently extended her flight time as a courtesy, a reward for her excellence and hard work.

Tobias was sharp and observant. Nothing seemed to escape her. "You said you like to fly, correct?"

Jennifer straightened to attention. "I have an excellence rating for this ship," she said, not caring that it sounded proud the way she said it.

"So you said," Tobias affirmed. "Let's see just how excellent you are. I've taken the liberty of loading coordinates into the flight computer for our destination." She boarded the cargo ship without another word. Mason and Dixon followed, their feet clacking against the metal steps that led up into the passenger area.

Jennifer's heart sped up a bit at the opportunity of being able to fly once more, only this time, the prospect of having Doctor Tobias on board was unnerving. She felt like the doctor enjoyed closely observing her every move, asking uncomfortable questions that seemed to so defy the very core values of Lord Dread's vision. Perhaps it was something that Jennifer should include in her next journal entry. She wondered how she would communicate with him, for those had been his explicit instructions, yet she had received no information on how to do that. Tobias seemed to be aware of the smallest detail. To circumvent her would have to become a mission of sorts. It would require stealth and cunning, all of which Jennifer had excelled at in simulations.

She climbed into the cockpit of the ship, feeling uncommonly at ease at the helm. In all her experience in the Dread Youth, she had never trained so hard at something she . . .

Tobias's question from the previous day played in her mind. She . . . _liked_ to fly. It was difficult make sense of that description. It felt foreign and somehow wrong. She had been training for flight because she her proficiency at the skills required was the best in her class. It was only natural that she should be assigned to at least operate cargo ships.

Flight control contacted the ship, clearing it for departure. As it did, Doctor Tobias slipped forward into the left seat, in the co-pilot position. Suddenly, Jennifer's confidence was shaken. She was being observed again. Instructors and leaders had observed her for a lifetime. Somehow, though, this was different. No matter how she tried to think of it as just another test, she could not shake the notoriety of Tobias and her influence on the rise of the empire.

She skillfully engaged the maneuvering engines. The ship lifted off the hangar floor, gliding forward gracefully toward the exit. Jennifer waited until the ship had cleared the doors and was in open air outside the base. The sky was its usual dusky rose. The higher elevations gave way to brighter sunlight, as the ship cleared the lower layers of dust in the atmosphere. Chase pulled up the coordinates to Alaceda and activated them in the flight computer. The facility was located in a region safely controlled by empire forces. It was nestled in the side of a mountain, the entrance barely visible even on the flight schematics.

Tobias was watching the instrument panel intently, seeing the correlation of maneuvers to the response of the readings. At one point, Jennifer noticed Tobias steal a glance at her as she piloted the ship.

"What's the structural tolerance of this ship?" Tobias asked finally.

Chase reeled off the statistics without even thinking. "Triple titanium layering, capable of fourteen-g pulls with a cargo capacity of seventeen-thousand kilos. Artificial gravity invoked in negative-g situations."

"Speed?"

"Standard cruising speed is two-hundred forty-seven knots."

"Thrill factor?"

Again, Jennifer did not know how to answer. It was another one of those unexpected questions that had no logic to it. There was no sense of academia in its content.

"Thrill factor?"

"Sure," Tobias said with a small shrug. "How much of a thrill do you get from flying one of these?"

"I'm not aware of any rating information with that title," she said safely.

"You won't find it in any text," Tobias said knowingly. "It's what you feel inside, how flying this ship makes you feel."

A wave of frustration flitted through Jennifer at yet another one of Tobias's questions. It was as though the doctor was trying to trip her up, to catch her with an incorrect answer. She decided to be bold and address the issue directly.

She threw the ship on to automatic pilot and turned to Tobias. "I don't understand what you want from me. My assignment is to assist you in your research, Doctor."

Tobias seemed intrigued by the confrontation. "So it is. However, it's also my job to make sure you are capable of assisting me in that research. We'll be spending long hours in the lab. If I want a robot working for me, I'll assign Mason and Dixon to do the work."

Jennifer averted her eyes from the doctor. "Your questions are difficult to answer." It was not an easy thing to say.

"They're not meant to be easy, cadet. If they were easy, you wouldn't be flying this ship, nor would you be assigned to me."

"I don't understand why you're asking me these things," she said, looking out the cockpit window at the brightening sky. "What do they have to do with your research?"

"My career has been spent asking questions, Jennifer. If I don't ask questions, I don't get answers. If I don't ask questions, I may never achieve the next level of knowledge. Knowledge is not the product of knowing the answers but of questioning the why."

Jennifer engaged control of the ship once more, sensing Tobias was being cryptic on purpose. It made no sense, and the youth leader dared to acknowledge it caused a feeling of frustration. She increased the throttle, channeling her emotions into the ship's drives. Her jaw tightened when she saw Tobias smile at the action.

She completed the flight with accuracy, setting the ship down in the camouflaged hangar that lay in the side of the mountain. It was necessary to use the ship's guidance systems to hit the target. Visually, the entrance was impossible to detect. A thick upshot of dead trees concealed the bay. The approach required a vertical descent, followed by slow forward progress. Jennifer accomplished the entire feat using instruments alone, retaining the hope that it would impress the good doctor. However, Tobias did not congratulate her on the completion of the approach. In fact, she said nothing when they finally landed in the bay. She merely rose from the cockpit and prepared to disembark.

Mason and Dixon clomped down the stairs after Tobias while Jennifer secured the systems inside it. Once she had finished, she exited the cockpit, took hold of the box Tobias had assigned to her, and caught up with them on the hangar floor.

Jennifer took a moment to inventory her surroundings. The landing bay of Alaceda was microscopic compared to that of Volcania. Its capacity was for maybe two more cargo ships, and even that would have been a tight fit. As it was, her ship was the only one in the dock. Three technicians moved toward it and began unloading its cargo, taking care when placing the containers onto a carrier under the watchful eye of Tobias. Mason and Dixon stood placidly by, awaiting her orders.

The air seemed different in the Alaceda hangar. There was still the comforting smell of hydraulic fluid and grease, but there was an occasional breeze that was not held in check by artificial ventilation systems. It blew in from the hangar doors that were still slightly ajar. Even though the mountainside had been burned, the air was clean and fresh. The scent of recovering vegetation sailed on it. It reminded her of the hydroponics lab she had spent time in two years earlier, where she learned the cultivation process that fed the overunits and Dread Youth that served Lord Dread. She had never been where it was growing naturally, though. The smell intrigued her, and she suddenly longed to venture outside the bay and see naturally growing plants for herself, if only out of curiosity.

It was not to be, though. Tobias called for her to follow the entourage to the exit of the bay and into the inner halls of Alaceda. It seemed more compact, smaller than Volcania. The halls were not nearly as grand. They were more like tunnels, made of concrete with lights spaced at even intervals in the ceiling. She waited for the scenes to improve, but they did not. The occasional offshoot of a hall to the right or left was the only deviation in the layout until they came to a security checkpoint. The mechs manning the station blocked the passageway.

One held out a palm scanner. Tobias obliged it by placing her hand on the pad. After a moment, the perimeter of the device turned green, indicating Tobias was cleared to enter. Then it was Jennifer's turn. She, too, placed her hand on the scanner. A brief moment of worry ignited in her when the panel did not turn green as it had for the doctor. Instead, it turned yellow, requiring senior authorization for approval. Tobias took the pad and tapped in an approval on its surface, handing it back to the mech guard when she was done.

At once, the guards stood aside to allow passage. The group continued their journey through the next set of doors until they came upon the entrance to the lab, clearing marked with a plaque on the outside announcing it belonged to Tobias and that unauthorized entry was prohibited. When they entered, Jennifer was surprised to see such a difference in the lab's condition as compared to the one at Volcania. Everything was in order – and catalogued – from what she could see. It was like they were stepping into Tobias's lair, a place that few were privileged to see. It was so unlike the Volcania lab. It was almost as if the doctor had personalized the space. The walls were adorned with pictures and mementos. A circular board of throwing skills hung on a far wall, the projectiles randomly thrust into the material.

"Put that box on my desk, please," Tobias instructed, making her way to the desk. She dropped the box she carried heavily onto the surface. Then she pushed two stacks of data pads out of the way so Jennifer could do the same.

Jennifer looked around the lab again. It was about half the size of the Volcania lab. The enormous number of projects inside it made it seem even smaller. There was hardly a clean surface to be found. It was the antithesis of what Jennifer had imagined the doctor's lab would look like, especially one in a secret facility.

"Your disappointment is becoming disheartening," Tobias said, again observing her. "Not what you expected, is it?"

"It's not what was pictured in our learning texts." It was a lie. Jennifer's disappointment was building at a furious rate.

"We really need to work on saying what you mean and meaning what you say, child. Obfuscation may get you far in the Youth, but it's a fast track to the door with me."

Jennifer registered the meaning quickly. She had excelled in her vocabulary studies and was at least comforted in that she knew what Tobias meant. Still, she felt herself standing there, speechless and under verbal assault by a superior.

Tobias approached her, looking her directly in the eyes. There was no wrath in her demeanor, though. Instead, her features were soft.

"The truth may sometimes be painful," Tobias said, "but it is what it is. Science is truth, Jennifer. If you can't speak the truth, then you're wasting your time and mine. Now, what is the truth?"

No lessons in her Youth training covered this kind of questioning. It was worse than torture in most respects. Again, it felt like a test. What if Lord Dread had set the whole thing up and was testing to see how loyal one of his top students was?

On the other hand, what if Tobias was asking for a genuine answer and failed to get one? Either scenario presented a losing end. Jennifer tried to run through the permutations as quickly as possible, weighing the evidence. Her lord had given her explicit instructions to report all findings. She was about to answer in her best Youth form when she remembered that Lord Dread had specifically asked her to report on Doctor Tobias's research projects and not her personal demeanor. It seemed he wanted empirical information, not a commentary on her social interaction with the doctor. She decided to take a chance.

"It's not as sophisticated as I expected," she said carefully. "I thought there would be more."

Tobias gave a bright smile. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Tobias had no idea, Jennifer thought. "No, it wasn't difficult, Doctor Tobias. Would you like me to clean off the lab tables now?"

"Touch a thing on these tables, and I'll cut your hands off," Tobias said without missing a beat. A smile followed the warning. The smile was more menacing than a drill instructor screaming during training. She had the distinct sense that the doctor meant it.

"Understood," Chase managed, and it was. Nevertheless, her voice sounded small in her ears, like a weak child. She waited for Tobias to issue an order, clasping her hands behind her back in parade rest.

Tobias turned and began a small tour of the lab. "The lab at Volcania was nothing more than a room in which to keep busy. This place," she said, waving her hand about, "is where my real work is done. This is a place that is off limits to everyone, including your precious Lord Dread."

Jennifer followed carefully behind Tobias.

"He won't leave his lair, and I won't let him in here. As long as he gets results, he's happy, and I intend to keep it that way. Your job," she said, turning to face Jennifer, "is to keep your lord and me happy. You'll do that by assisting me in my research."

Tobias continued her tour of the room. "We need to set some ground rules. First, don't touch anything unless I permit you. Everything here is in its place for a reason and in delicate stages of development. One false move can destroy years of research. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Jennifer said, wishing she could find a more confident voice.

"Second, that door over there," Tobias said, pointing, "is strictly off limits to you. Under no circumstances are you to enter, look inside, or attempt any sort of investigation into its contents. Is that understood?"

Jennifer looked at the door. It was large, a heavy grey metal hulk that looked as though it would require a battalion of mechs to break through it. An ocular security scanner waited patiently beside it.

"Understood."

"Your duties will be limited to a daily schedule which I will give to you at the start of each shift. You are not to deviate from that duty list unless I instruct you to do so."

Tobias continued her shuffle around the room. She returned to the desk where a large collection of data pads lay precariously balanced. She picked up one, examining the contents. "For now," she said, "you'll report to your quarters and get settled in today. Feel free to take a tour of the facility. You'll find out quickly what are restricted areas and what is common."

Again, Jennifer was surprised at the order. "The rest of the day? It's early morning. My assignment is to assist . . ."

"Your assignment," Tobias countered, putting the data pad back on the desk, "is to follow my orders. Right now, my orders are for you to get settled into your quarters and get your bearings of the facility. You're no good to me if you don't know where you are or where you have to go to complete a task."

A flash of anger and frustration flitted through Jennifer as Tobias summarily put her in her place. The dream assignment was crashing down around the Youth Leader like a crumbling wall.

"As you wish," Jennifer said with a curt nod of assent.

"Mason will show you to your quarters." She nodded at the mech. "Mason, take Youth Leader Chase to her living compartment."

The mech came to attention and approached Jennifer. It waited patiently for her to move to the door.

"While you're getting settled," Tobias said in parting, "run the facility's audio tour. It'll help before you start meandering around this place to know what goes on around here."

She turned away from Jennifer and the mech and resumed her inspection of the data pads. Her silence told of the cadet's dismissal from the lab. She led the way, followed by Mason. Once they were in the hall, Mason took the lead, clanking unceremoniously down the corridor. They passed through several bulkheads without incident. There were not nearly as many people assigned to the station as Volcania. In was a minute fraction, in fact, compared to the thousands who served Lord Dread at the main base. There were no frills in this place. She had not even spied the symbol of the Dread empire, something she found suspect in a way she could not identify. It seemed more utilitarian, which she found strangely comforting. The place churned with purpose. The few workers she saw were carrying on tasks with ardor. It was as she thought all those in the service of Lord Dread should be.

The air held a strange dampness. It smelled of dirt and rock. Occasionally, they passed by tiny sections of walkway that had not been shored by construction. Bare rock served as the wall of the corridor. Some portions were shiny with natural water that condensed on the stone.Unlike Volcania, there were no temperature variations. From her lessons, she surmised that the insulation of the mountain kept the facility at a constant temperature. She was willing to bet that it was easier to manage the facility's environment than it was to maintain the large central base.

The deeper Mason took her into the base, the more secure areas they passed. Each area was guarded by two mechs who stood at attention. They did not acknowledge Chase's approach in any way, nor should they, she knew. They were programmed to react only when an intruder challenged access to an area. They were machines – unfeeling, running on planned algorithms and set conditions. They were perfection in their operation. Their performance would only improve with time, making them more efficient and able to make judgments based on logic.

She surveyed as much as she could as they walked the corridors. The smaller dimensions of the walkways seemed confining, as though making the air thinner and less available. The logical side of her mind told her there was sufficient oxygen, since there were workers effectively living in the mountain. System alarms would have sounded if the environmental controls had detected anything less than acceptable. She tried to keep that in mind as she followed Mason, but she could not quell the raging sense that something was wrong.

They entered another nest of corridors. Mason came to a stop outside one door and touched the control panel off to the side. The door slid open, revealing personal living quarters. Jennifer looked inside and saw her bag set neatly on the bunk. Mason stepped aside and allowed her to pass. It turned and left without any acknowledgement that they had reached their destination. The door closed again, sealing her inside the room.

She looked around. This space was larger than the quarters she had earned at Volcania. In fact, it seemed almost too large for her. Not only was there a bunk and a standard desk, but now she saw shelving units and an expanded communication center. Several monitors lit up the wall with scrolling information. Jennifer sat down on the bed, surveying her surroundings. The lights were muted, giving the room a softer look than she was accustomed to seeing. One thing that caught her eye was a personal food portal, providing meals when she wanted. There was no need to enter a commissary. All she had to do was request a meal and it would be generated in the port.

She pulled the bag off the bed and set it on the floor in front of her. Unpacking the bag went quickly. All the clothing and uniform accessories were placed neatly in the closet provided. There was more than enough room to store what she had brought. When she sat back on the bed and looked into the open closet, she realized just how sparse her belongings were. In truth, she owned nothing. What she did have in the way of uniforms belonged to Lord Dread. He had provided for her and would continue to do so as long as her performance remained as perfect as it had been.

Doctor Tobias had left Jennifer with a standing order to learn about the base, starting with the audio summary of its operations. She followed the command.

"Computer, play audio synopsis of this facility."

The computer chirped three times, acknowledging the command. She lay back on the bunk and began listening to the presentation as the base computer's female voice began relaying the information.

"Alaceda Research Facility is located in the northern hemisphere – forty degrees, thirty minutes north latitude by eighty degrees, thirteen minutes west longitude. The facility houses dedicated research projects under the direct supervision of Doctor Helene Tobias, the station's director."

"Computer," Chase said, interrupting the presentation, "what projects are run in Alaceda?"

"The project list is classified and restricted to authorized personnel only," the computer answered flatly.

She was disappointed at the roadblock. "Continue."

"Construction began on August 28, 2131 under the guidance of Doctor Tobias. Initial project schedules focused primarily on cybernetic research. Today, Alaceda carries on this tradition to include interrogation techniques and warfare enhancement."

The computer droned on with more information, giving the dimensions of Alaceda. Most of it was inconsequential construction data. She did catch the fact that she was sitting in a room covered in megatons of dirt and rock. The tightness she felt before returned at the mention of the fact. She pushed it away as best as she could, but it would not cease. She closed her eyes and concentrated on reciting primary numbers until the uneasiness passed a little. The computer continued spewing facts, but none of it registered in her ears. She pushed down a wave of nausea and felt a distinct weariness invade her body.

Jennifer sat up suddenly, the urge to leave the room overwhelming. Reciting primary numbers was not enough. After a glass of water from the faucet to help with her dry throat, she decided to tour the facility on foot in an effort to complete the task assigned to her by Tobias. As she roamed the halls, though, the air got thinner. Her head began to pound like she had never before felt. She made it a point to walk with a stiff back when she passed by human workers, but her shoulders slumped when she was not being observed. Her mouth was dry again, and she began to perspire as though she was in a daily physical fitness class.

She came to a door guarded by mechs. Their visage swam in and out of focus as she neared them. She wanted to tell them that something was wrong but knew they would not understand.

Ten seconds later, it did not matter. Jennifer Chase passed out, hitting the grated floor with a dull thud.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jennifer's mind awoke, though her eyes did not open. She was flat on her back, on something soft and comforting. She saw light through her closed eyes and rebelled against it, screwing her lids shut to block it. Her head was pounding with pain, something that seemed so foreign. She knew it was known as a headache, but she had never really experienced one so intense. Her stomach clenched with nausea as her senses returned.

She heard movement next to her. She opened her eyes slowly, assaulted by the light. Tobias sat in a chair next to the bed, observing her. Jennifer tried to sit up, embarrassed that her new commander would find her in such a condition. Before she could make it all the way upright, Tobias had a hand n the cadet's shoulder, forcing her gently back on the bed.

"Easy, soldier," Tobias said. "Don't go blowing out a gasket."

Jennifer inhaled sharply, trying to quell the nausea swimming in her stomach. She put her forearm across her eyes. "What happened?"

Tobias sighed. "Just a wild guess, but I'd say you're claustrophobic."

The term was shocking and distasteful. "Impossible."

"Why?"

"Youth cadets don't suffer such inadequacies," she said defiantly.

"Well," Tobias said, "I hate to disappoint you, but there are certain things that genetic engineering cannot prevent. The prospect of being crushed at any moment by tons of rock and dirt can be heady."

A new, violent wave of nausea punched at Jennifer's insides at Tobias's fact. She panicked as bile crept up her throat. There was no way she could contain it. She tried to scramble away from Tobias to expel what was coming into the washbasin, but Tobias had a bedpan at the ready, guiding the young woman to it at the side of the bed. Jennifer was left with no choice but to accept the help. Her stomach contracted violently as the water she had consumed earlier rushed forth.

The episode seemed to last forever. When the attack finally subsided, Jennifer laid back on the bed, panting and perspiring in a manner most unbecoming a cadet about to graduate. Again, she closed her eyes, but this time it was more out of embarrassment than the headache.

She heard Tobias place the bedpan on the floor. "Feel better?"

Jennifer sensed a challenge in the question. "If you'll grant me a few minutes, I'll change and report to the lab."

"That's not what I asked, cadet," Tobias said, though her tone was not as terse as it had been the first time she had made that statement.

Jennifer considered what answer to give. No matter what she said, nothing could make up for the display of weakness she had just given.

"Some," she said finally, and it was true. Her stomach was not so painful. She involuntarily shivered as the cool air from the ventilation system rained down on her now wet skin. She knew Tobias saw it.

"Then it's good to know you're still human," she said. There was a soft snapping sound as Tobias fluffed out a blanket at the end of the bed and spread it over the cadet. "No one comes to work here without going through claustrophobia to some degree. Some get it worse than others."

The blanket was comforting. Jennifer wanted to immerse herself in its warmth until her brain skidded to a halt. It was a test! It had to be. Tobias was testing her, or perhaps Lord Dread, himself, was observing to test her response to the situation.

Jennifer sat up again, or at least she tried to sit. Again, Tobias urged her back to the bed.

"Don't make me restrain you, cadet," Tobias admonished.

"I have to fulfill my assignment," Jennifer argued, trying unsuccessfully to escape the doctor's control.

"Your new assignment is to rest until tomorrow morning," Tobias countered. She pulled out a dermal injector and placed it on Jennifer's wrist. The contents in the vial disappeared in a quiet whooshing sound as the liquid was absorbed into the young woman's body.

Almost immediately, Jennifer felt the dizzying effects of the medication. Her body began to relax. The nausea she felt began dissipating. Her entire body felt blissfully good and calm. She had no desire to fight Tobias.

"Say goodnight, child."

Jennifer never got the chance as the medication took complete hold of her and did not let go. Darkness slid over and enveloped her in pleasurable warmth.

The next morning appeared in quiet fashion. The only light in the room came from a small lamp in the corner that had been dimmed to the lowest setting. Jennifer still felt drugged. She knew she should have been eager to get out of bed and try to repair her mistakes from the previous day, but she could not muster the resolve. In fact, she felt like she could go back to sleep for eons. However, her training was stronger than the weak human desires of her body. She sat up, grabbing on to the edge of the bed as the room spun nearly out of control. Once she was sure she could, she stood up and made her way to the lavatory area. She turned on the light and immediately regretted the result. The bright white light hit her in a way that felt physical and painful. She turned down the intensity of the illumination to a level that did not stab at her so harshly.

The shower unit was unique. It used water, not the sonic methods employed at Volcania. Cadets had been trained in the use of water units, as there were some bases that still housed them. She had never actually been in one, but the lesson came back to her with clarity. The temperature control consisted of a mix of hot and cold water. There was soap and other cleansing items on the shelf inside the unit. Towels lay neatly folded on a rack on the wall. She undressed and stepped under the stream of water. The sensation was wonderful. She had never felt such an odd yet comforting feeling. Jennifer stood there, reveling in the experience. Taut muscles seemed to loosen as steam billowed around her. She took this form of relaxation as one of the rewards for all her dedication to Lord Dread and his vision.

When she exited the lavatory, she was chagrined to see the basin Tobias had used the night before tucked neatly under the bed. She closed her eyes to think of what the doctor had seen and done for her. The basin was empty, which meant someone had to clean it. She doubted Tobias would have had a mech do it. She was learning it was not the doctor's style to have someone or something do task for her. Jennifer's only comfort was that what had been expelled was water and not a portion of a meal.

She dressed quickly. Her hair had already begun to dry as she pulled it back and secured it to specification. She selected a clean uniform and began to dress. She called for the computer to display a schematic of Alaceda's halls, to be sure she could find her way to the lab without error. The layout played on one of the screens above her desk. She followed the path with her eyes as she secured the belt of her uniform.

Again, she checked her appearance in the mirror. While she was to standard in her uniform, her face told another story. It reflected the lingering nausea that gave her a twinge every so often, reminding her of the previous day's fiasco. She made a concerted effort to recover from it, to put the whole incident out of her mind. But when she stepped into the hall, panic set in as the triggers snapped into place, renewing the ill sensations. Jennifer began walking quickly toward her destination, bringing to bear the schematic's information with force to take her mind of her stomach's rebellion.

By the time she reached the lab, though, the vicious reaction returned. She was perspiring, feeling nauseated and unable to take a lungful of air. She stood outside the door, trying to compose herself when it opened. Tobias stood there, nonplussed at Jennifer's condition.

"I'm impressed. You made it here without throwing up. That's good."

Jennifer did not respond. She dared not do anything that required her mouth to open.

"In we go," Tobias said, leading the cadet into the lab and to a chair. She ordered her to sit.

Again, Tobias produced an injector with a tiny vial of blue liquid. She took Jennifer's wrist in her hand and injected the contents. This time, there was no sense of sedation. The nausea dissipated and the perspiring stopped. Air became more available. Jennifer breathed deeply, yearning to convince her mind that there was enough of it.

She looked away from Tobias in shame. "I'll pack my things as soon as you release me from my duties here."

Tobias gave a confused gesture. "Pack?"

Jennifer looked at the doctor, equally confused. "I've failed in my duties. There are more perfect candidates to assist you in your work."

"You're imperfect because you threw up?"

"I failed in this environment," Jennifer said emphatically, frustrated that the doctor did not understand her plight.

"Dear child," Tobias said with a look of disappointment, "failure is nothing more than a learning experience. Together, we learned you need a supplement to deal with your surroundings. Eventually, you won't need it and you'll be able to function quite well."

She put the injector on the table. "There. How do you feel now?"

Jennifer took inventory of herself. She was about to answer in a neutral way but remembered that Tobias had asked her a direct question. "Better," she said quietly, not wanting to admit it.

"Good," Tobias said, sounding cheerful. "Are you ready for your first assignment?"

A weight suddenly lifted from the cadet's shoulders that she was not about to be dismissed. "I am," she said.

Tobias stood and walked to another table, reaching underneath it. She pulled up a large cage. "Find me some rats."

"Rats?"

Tobias was not discouraged at being questioned. "Take this trap, set it for three targets, and lure some rats into it. Research what attracts them and get me three."

"Where do I find them?"

The doctor smiled slyly. "Sometimes under your bed, but nearly anywhere will do. I suggest you put the trap in a low traffic area. The storage areas usually work well." She pointed. "Use that terminal there to do your research. Begin when you're ready."

Jennifer moved to the workstation Tobias had indicated and began a search of available data. She had read about the habits of rodents before for an assignment in her schooling. Much of what she had read before came back to her. It helped her to quickly narrow down her searches and get the information she needed. Rats, she learned, ate nearly anything. Sometimes, they even consumed cement or other building materials. Historically, they were responsible for many pandemics that plagued humanity over the eons. They were a hearty race of animals, surviving catastrophic events only to multiply and recover in population.

She reviewed their anatomy, particularly their digestive system. It was typical of many mammals. Jennifer took a small virtual tour of the digestive tract, noting how nutrients were processed in a rodent's body. When she finished, she looked for Tobias, confident in her plan of trapping three of the animals.

"What do you plan to use as bait?" Tobias inquired.

"According to the database, nearly anything will do. I plan on using a sample of the daily meal."

Tobias gave her approval. "Good enough. Let's see what you can do."

Jennifer got up from the workstation and took hold of the cage Tobias had provided. She left the lab and headed back toward her quarters. She stopped at a navigation panel on the wall to find the nearest storage area. There was a parts room not too far from the lab. The computer displayed the shortest route, which she committed to memory. She quickly went back to her room and ordered a meal from the port. The plate was warm, but the food did not look in the least bit appetizing. Despite the injection Doctor Tobias had given her, the idea of consuming food was still uninviting.

The storage room was dank and dark. From what Jennifer could see, it was home to outdated equipment that should probably have been discarded long ago. She looked up at the ceiling. There was no sign of the rock of the mountain she was in, which was a comfort. The straight metal beams of room were consistent and congruent. Still, there was the dripping sound of water in the far reaches of the room that rang out like noisy gongs in her mind. Then she heard the squeal of the rats, the object of her assignment.

She put the cage on the floor and quickly placed the food meant to entice them. She set the sensor on top of it to detect three occupants. The cage would close automatically. Then she backed away and sat in a far corner and watched.

She sat there quietly, waiting, listening as the rats became more curious and brave. She saw one of them venture toward the cage, smelling the air, assessing if something of value was inside the mesh enclosure. It finally entered the cage. That was all it took to convince four more to follow. They darted inside, eager to get at the food meant to tempt them. The door snapped shut, trapping them inside the box. Jennifer's elation at success was short-lived when she realized she had not fulfilled the doctor's request to specification. Tobias had said to capture three rats, not five. They were frantically trying to escape the cage, clawing at the metal mesh. She got up and quickly crossed the room. She examined the controls atop the box and tried to open release the lock on the door without success. She felt panic set in that she had once again failed her mission. The doctor had given her a certain measure of breathing room, but she doubted that would last. At some point, the mistakes would add up, and Jennifer would and should be held accountable.

She tried everything she knew to open the cage with the idea that she could start over, but the lock would not disengage. Finally, she resolved that she would simply have to bring the cage with its excessive number of rodents back to the lab and accept her punishment for failure.

When she entered the lab, Tobias was seated behind the desk. The doctor looked up at her as she presented the cage, intending to accept any wrath aimed at her for her failure to follow orders.

Instead, Tobias chuckled, shaking her head. "You certainly are an overachiever, aren't you?"

"They were inside before the sensors closed the trap. I tried everything I could to get them out," Jennifer said in a flourish, trying to explain the failure.

Tobias, it seemed, was completely amused by the situation. She suppressed a smile as she sat there, watching Jennifer try to talk her way out of the error. She brought her fingers together in a steeple and touched them to her lips, continuing to look intrigued at the cadet's plight.

Jennifer stopped trying to explain, realizing the futility. No matter how what she said, it would not change the fact that she had failed to follow the doctor's instructions. She stood there, jaw set and feeling madder at herself for her inadequacies than ever.

"No harm done," Tobias said after a moment. "If we screw up more than three times, we'll have a head start on getting two more."

Jennifer's mind reeled with the way Tobias reacted to failure. At least with drill instructors and officers of the Dread forces, the consequences were consistent. Punishment was swift and expected. There was a certain comfort in knowing what would happen if an assignment was not completed to satisfaction or a rule was broken. With the doctor, though, the consequences were a mystery. So far, none had been harsh. In fact, Tobias's response had been outright understanding.

"If I may, Doctor, what will be done with them?"

Tobias rose from behind the desk. "You're about to find out. It's time for your first active experimentation work. Bring the cage over here and put it on the table."

Jennifer did as she was told. She hefted the cage onto the lab table. The rats inside scurried against the walls in a panic. They squealed again, clamoring over each other in an effort to escape. The food that had been used as bait had long been forgotten and lay scattered across the floor of the cage, trampled under them.

Tobias tapped the control panel on the top of the cage. The latch released with a solid click. She turned to another table and removed a towel covering a medical tray.

"Bring one of them over here," she ordered.

Jennifer looked at the cage, unsure how to proceed.

"Reach in and grab one," Tobias said, observing her hesitation.

Chase opened the door to the cage, keeping the opening small so as to not let the rats tumble out to freedom. She slid her hand inside and took hold of one of the animals. In a split second, the rat turned and struck at her hand, sinking its teeth into the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. She yelped at assault, quickly withdrawing her hand from cage. The sliding door slammed shut.

Tobias quickly crossed the room and was at Jennifer's side. "What happened?"

Jennifer cradled her hand, the pain blossoming with each heartbeat. Tears stung her eyes as the shock of what happened settled into words. "I've been bitten."

The wound throbbed as Tobias took Jennifer's hand in her own and began inspecting the damage. Blood rolled down in rivulets on both sides. The distinct scent of iron wafted through the air as some of the blood began to coagulate.

"Ah, that's a good one," Tobias said, almost as though she were congratulating the rat on its strike. "Let's get it cleaned up before there's an infection."

She led Jennifer over to a chair on the far side of the room and sat her down with a supportive arm. She opened a nearby cabinet and withdrew medical supplies. The bleeding was already starting to slow. Tobias began cleansing the wound. The antiseptic on the gauze stung viciously as the fabric crossed over the wound. The doctor scanned the wounded.

"No tendon damage," she reported. "Just a good chomp. Never give them the opportunity to turn around on you like that. You'll pay for it every time."

Tobias carefully cleaned the wound, taking extra care as she wiped at the blood oozing from the wounds.

The sting of failure was worse than the bite, Jennifer decided. Since being assigned to Tobias, it seemed she was unable to complete one task successfully except to not crash the cargo ship when transporting Tobias to Alaceda. Her jaw clenched again in frustration. She hardly took notice that the pain had all but vanished in the wound when the doctor treated it with an odd looking instrument that was not standard.

Tobias dressed the wounds, securing the bandages in place with adhesive strips. The treatment left Jennifer with restricted movement in her right hand. She flexed her fingers, testing the limits of her fingers while Tobias put away the treatment kit.

"Ready to try again?" Tobias said.

"With all due respect, Doctor, I think it may be more efficient if you show me how to do it."

Tobias smiled. "You ask for help. I like that." She stood. "Follow me."

Jennifer followed behind the doctor to the cage. Tobias placed a hand on the small door in the front and lifted it up slightly, just as Jennifer had begun to do. But unlike Jennifer, Tobias quickly grasped one of the rats around the neck, securing it in her hand and pulling it back toward the door. The rat struggled but was unable to inflict any damage on its captor.

She brought the rat out, holding it up for Jennifer's inspection.

"Wiley little things, aren't they?" Tobias said.

The rat struggled furiously to free itself to no avail. Tobias brought the rat over to a lab table and held it firmly on the stainless steel surface. She motioned for Jennifer to come closer.

"Your turn. Put your hand over mine. I'm going to transfer control to you on the count of three."

The doctor counted down the procedure. On three, she slipped her hand away as Jennifer pushed down and took control of the rat. Tobias was right – it was easier to handle when the neck was under control. She waited as Tobias turned to grab more instruments off an adjacent shelving unit. Several pieces were attached by wire to a control box. She brought forth a tiny silver probe, lowering the sharp end to the forehead of the rat. Without any advisory, she pushed it forward into the skull of the rat.

The animal lurched wildly under Jennifer's hand. She had difficulty keeping it under control as Tobias continued to insert the probe. The control box began showing readings, stating the proximity to the goal on its tiny screen. Tobias seemed to study both rat and box at once. The sounds the rat was emitting echoed endlessly off the walls of the lab.

"Almost there," Tobias said quietly, still pushing.

The control box chimed. Tobias quickly initiated a sequence of commands. All at once, the rat calmed. For a moment, Jennifer thought it may have been dead, but then she saw the minute respirations, as the animal lay motionless under her hand.

"You can let it go now," Tobias said after a moment of inspection.

Jennifer tentatively released the animal. It was still, listless on the metal table. The tiny probe Tobias had pressed forward now stuck out of the animal's head like an unnatural appendage.

"They're much easier to handle when subdued, aren't they?" the doctor said, picking through a tray of instruments off to the side. She found the one she needed and grasped it.

"As it should be," Jennifer answered, believing fully in the philosophy. "Rodents are inferior."

"So they are," Tobias agreed. "Rather much like how machines see human beings, is it not?"

Jennifer stood at parade rest beside the lab table. This question she was prepared to answer, for it had been such a repetitive part of her studies to know the doctrine of Lord Dread. "The will of Lord Dread supercedes the weakness of the human race."

"Tell me something," Tobias said, leaning in close to the rat with the instrument, "what did it feel like when the rat bit you?"

This Jennifer was not prepared to answer. She surreptitiously touched at the bandage around her hand, out of eyesight of Tobias. The question was a trap. Jennifer was sure of it. The doctor was under suspicion. That much was clear. Subversion was punishable by death. As the hours passed in the presence of Tobias, Jennifer could see the mission forming in a much more clear sense.

The question, though, was one she had no choice but to answer. No matter what sympathies the doctor was trying to evoke, it would not work. Jennifer was wise to the game.

"It was painful," she said. "But the rat is still inferior. It's under your complete control right now."

"That's right, it's under my control. You, on the other hand, couldn't handle such a small animal. In fact, it ended up drawing blood."

"It's incapacitated now because of your expertise."

"No," Tobias countered, concentrating more on her work with the rat than the conversation, "it's incapacitated because I used force and experience to subdue it. That leaves me to question exactly how superior you are as one of Lord Dread's top students. You can't wrangle a rat, but you think you're going to be able to conquer what's left of humanity."

Jennifer remained silent, observing the doctor's work and felt ire that the doctor had so poignantly illustrated an inadequacy in the cadet.

"Because of your apparent lack of skill in rat wrangling," she said, still working closely with the rat, "you'll catch me three every day until I decide your skills are good enough to move on to better things. Until then, you'll have to wait to assist me in larger capacities."

Chase watched the doctor's work, unable to decipher exactly what it was the probe was supposed to do. She dared not ask, either. Tobias had already made her displeasure clear. It would have been unwise to aggravate an already miserable situation.

The rest of the day was spent doing mundane tasks. Tobias set Jennifer to work cleaning and recalibrating microscopes and electrical sensors. Mason and Dixon were probably quite proficient at such tasks, but the doctor assigned the work to Jennifer, occasionally and quite blatantly stopping her own work to inspect the cadet's progress. The hints she offered were not gentle. They were direct commands, citing a missed spot or that the margin of error in the recalibration of a sensor was not tight enough. The string of failures ended only when Tobias dismissed her for the day.

As Jennifer entered her quarters, she saw the communications panel blinking with a pending message. She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her hat was straight, and despite a rather grueling day of climbing in and out of console panels, her uniform had remained presentable. With one long intake of breath, she activated the communications link. Though she should not have been surprised to see her Lord Dread on the screen, her heart still thumped with a fury in his presence. He had said he was going ask her to report her findings, but she had no idea it would be so soon.

"Youth Leader Chase," he said, his voice powerful and direct, "report."

Her throat was dry, but she managed to find a strong voice with which to answer. "My lord, I have arrived at Alaceda and am proceeding as ordered."

"Tell me what you have observed of the experiments performed in the lab."

"My observations have been limited. Doctor Tobias has restricted me to the general lab area. Very few experiments are performed there."

Lord Dread looked more disappointed than displeased. "I was afraid of that." He became determined. "Do whatever you must to gain the trust of Doctor Tobias. I want to know what she's doing in that lab," he said emphatically, "in detail."

"Yes, my lord," she answered, not really having any idea how to fulfill the order.

The screen went blank without so much as a dismissal from Lord Dread. Jennifer was left standing there, wondering what she would do to please him. Her hand began to sting. She sat down on the bed and unwrapped the bandage Tobias had placed on it. The puncture holes were neat and aligned. She thought of the unconscious rat on the table, knowing that if she placed her hand near the rat's mouth, it would line up perfectly with the wounds. Blood still seeped from the holes. She squeezed the skin around it, watching the blood well into a tiny blob. It began to sting, though not too badly. It was more annoying than anything. As she wiped the blood away with the bandage, she felt distaste for the animal take hold in her. Tobias wanted three a day, and that exactly what she planned to get the good doctor. It would be a pleasure to see that many meet their demise.

Jennifer lay back on her bunk, careful to not smear blood on either her or any surface. She put one hand under her head and stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow was another day, she told herself. Her lord had given her an order, and she had every intention of following it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

Sorry this took a while, but alas, life interrupts my hobbies far too often. Hopefully, I will be able to slam out another chapter quite soon so as not to keep anyone waiting too long. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

As always, this has not been edited and is subject to corrections when I find them. Thanks!

**Chapter 5**

The days passed slowly. Morning after morning, Jennifer took the cage to various parts of Alaceda, baiting and trapping rats. She learned that it was possible to clear an area of them, where it seemed she had managed to exterminate their filth, but they managed to return a few days later, sometimes in larger numbers than when she had started. She had a hard time even finding their paths of travel. It was as though the rats intentionally masked their passages for safety.

The lab became a collection of cages. Unlike the first day when Tobias had taken one and gone immediately to work with it, the rest that had been collected remained in cages that lined the room. If Tobias worked with them, it was at a time when Jennifer was unable to observe, most like when she had been dismissed for the day. Tobias ordered that Jennifer maintain the cages, including feeding, watering and general hygiene of the animals.

Her hands were a nightmare of cuts and puncture wounds. Every time she put her hand in the cages in the lab, at least one of the rats would get in at least a small attack on her. She had asked Tobias if gloves were permissible, but the good doctor had denied her the privilege, saying that pain was a teacher and that Jennifer had some learning to do. No matter what Tobias was trying to teach, getting bitten by rodents was annoying at the very least and was becoming extremely painful at times.

As a matter of course, she had managed to learn how to grasp the rats to keep them from biting her. She was not always successful, but her skills had improved since the assignment began. The result was always the same – Tobias would take the rat, insert the probe and begin work for the day. She never let Jennifer get close enough to ask any questions regarding the work. Tobias just kept making notes and calculations. One time, Jennifer caught a glimpse of a schematic, but there was no time to study it. Tobias blanked the screen when she realized Jennifer was watching.

The morning had started out like all the rest. Jennifer had captured three rats as required. The job had become routine. She was learning the habits of the creatures and was able to anticipate where they would be and at what times. She also became intimately aware of the darker corners of the base. Most of the time, she set the trap in low traffic areas, knowing the rats would congregate there. It took less and less time each day to catch her limit. She was pleased that her proficiency was improving, despite the lack of glory in the job. As she entered the lab, she found Tobias waiting for her, but her demeanor seemed different. Immediately, Jennifer felt a defensive posture set in, alerted that the doctor's routine had changed.

"Doctor Tobias," Jennifer said in greeting, even though there was no mirth in her voice.

Tobias had her arms folded across her chest. Her robes were pulled tightly around her as she leaned against one of the lab tables. She looked down at the cage, her eyes counting the catch.

"You're getting good at that," Tobias said. "How are the hands?"

Jennifer stood there for only a moment. Then, she moved forward and placed the cage on one of the tables. "They're fine," she said, trying to keep her defiance in check.

Tobias picked up a cracker off a plate of food next to her and approached the cage. She broke a piece off and fed it to one of the rats. It sniffed at the offering and finally took it.

"You haven't asked what I've been doing with all these rats," Tobias said.

"I was under the impression you would tell me when you thought I was ready."

It was true, but Jennifer felt the sting of the words, a shadow of resentment that she had not been given the privilege of being in on the research as a reward for her dedication to Lord Dread. Instead, she was nothing more than a common snitch, just like the ones she had severely punished in her cadre in the corps. Doctor Tobias had the power to let her participate but had not granted the right.

"If looks could kill, cadet, I'd be dead where I stand."

If the doctor was angry, Jennifer could hardly tell. She looked amused more than anything.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"How many days have you been here?"

"Thirteen, today," Jennifer said.

Tobias grinned. "My favorite number." She pointed at the cage. "I'll tell you what – if you can get a hold of one the rats in cage number two without being bitten, I'll show you what we've been doing with them."

It was a challenge. Chase liked challenges. She liked to be told something could not be done only to excel at it where other had failed. She had been getting better at getting the rats, trying to emulate Tobias's method. All she had to do was get one lousy rat.

Cage number two had been brought in on the second day. She had been maintaining it for almost two weeks, feeding and cleaning it. She was quite familiar with the animals inside it, knowing which one was the fastest and needed the most attention to prevent escape. She unlocked the cage door and prepared to open it. One thing she had learned of late was that opening the door and dashing her hand inside only startled the rats and made them more nervous. If she moved slowly, allowing them to become acclimated to her scent and presence, they tended to come out easier. That was not to say they did not fight once she took hold of them, but the battle for supremacy was much more refined.

She slid the door to the cage upward and slipped her hand inside the mesh. The rats jumped slightly but were otherwise more curious than alarmed. Her hand moved forward. One of the rats stood on its hind legs and sniffed the air. Its nose twitched manically, trying to identify the intruder. When she got closer to it, she allowed it to smell her hand. Tiny whiskers were like miniature fingers on her skin. It laid its front paws on her hand, looking up at her, knowing the cage separated it from freedom.

"Interesting," Tobias remarked. "That one seems to like you."

"Animals are incapable of emotion," Jennifer countered, as had been drilled in to her by her instructors.

"You want to see the data, or are you willing to take my word for it?"

Jennifer did not answer. Instead, she carefully slipped her hand around the rat and brought it out of the cage and over to the table where Tobias stood. She waited for the doctor's approval at her feat.

"Well, I would call that an improvement," Tobias said. "No bloodshed on either side."

"Do I get to see the research now?"

"A promise is a promise," Tobias said. "Bring the rat with you."

She turned and headed for the desk, pushing data pads out of the way. Jennifer followed, cradling the rat, which sat passively in her hand, seeming to enjoy the ride. Tobias began typing commands into the console at the desk. She invited Jennifer to put the rat on the desk, feeding it a cracker once it was there. The rat, with ample opportunity to escape, remained on the desk, happily consuming the free food. It almost took Jennifer's complete attention until Tobias handed her a data pad.

"What do you know about cerebral implants?" she asked, settling into her chair.

"It's never been done, at least not successfully."

"On a human being, no. What if I were to tell you I've had decent success with rats?"

The idea was stunning but unrealistic. "I would say it's difficult to comprehend. A detailed brain structure on the cellular level has never been completed."

"Until now," Tobias said confidently. "Do you remember the probe I inserted into that first rat a few weeks ago?"

How could one forget, Jennifer thought. "Of course."

"Want to see where it's been?"

The question was confusing. "I don't understand."

"Watch," Tobias said. She keyed the console in front of her. The large screen went blank. Then, a wire frame model of a tunnel appeared. It took a moment for Jennifer to realize what was on the screen. Green blobs in the distance eventually took shape as other rats. She watched in amazement as the playback showed tunnels and passages in Alaceda where the rats lived and thrived. There hundreds of kin from what she could estimate.

After almost a half a minute, Jennifer realized she had not breathed. Tobias's accomplishment was startling and exciting.

"This is amazing," Jennifer managed.

"It's only the beginning," Tobias said. "There's more work to be done. Some day, very soon," she said, "we're going to bridge that gap between man and machine quite nicely."

"Lord Dread will be pleased with your work," she said, genuinely meaning it.

The glory of the moment vanished at the cadet's words. Tobias rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Not everything is for the glory of your Lord Dread," she said with disdain. "Sometimes, things are pursued for the love of science, not the adoration of a leader."

"Lord Dread provides for us. His will should be obeyed."

"To what end?"

"To the ultimate will of the machines."

Tobias was quiet for a moment. "How many missions have you been on with the overunits?"

"Nineteen," Jennifer said.

"I see," Tobias said. "And how many detainees have you captured in your missions?"

"My cadre is responsible for eliminating or capturing almost three-thousand rebels."

"Three-thousand," Tobias repeated, sounding depressed at the figure. "And how do you feel about that?"

"My cadre performed well under my leadership. Our overunit was pleased. The success resulted in several commendations and privileges for us." Truly, she could not understand what Tobias wanted in the form of an answer. It was clear the ones she was giving the doctor were not satisfactory.

"Like being assigned to assist me in my research?"

"Yes," Jennifer said.

"I see," she said again. "And, of course, you're reporting progress to Volcania? Perhaps to Lord Dread directly?"

"No." The lie was quick and efficient.

"Of course not," Tobias said. Her tone clearly said she did not believe the cadet. "In any case, we might as well move along and let you see what's so important here in my research. I think it's time we go through the big door." She pointed at the heavy hull door that had been off limits.

Tobias stood and reached for the rat on the desk. She put in on her shoulder, feeding it another cracker. The rat jockeyed for balance as the doctor walked but otherwise stayed calm and satisfied. The doctor stood before the security panel at the heavy door. A green scanning light flicked on in a long horizontal beam. It ran up and down her eye, looking for signatures in the iris that identified authorized personnel. Large steel tumblers in the door turned. It opened with the sound of a seal being broken. Chilled air flowed outward, blowing the older woman's short hair back for a moment.

Jennifer had been standing to the right, unable to see inside the room until Tobias fully entered. When she rounded the corner, she was shocked to see several long tables inside with human corpses on them. They were lined up symmetrically, each of them probed and in an experimental stage. Tobias moved forward and motioned for Jennifer to follow. Though it was not a shock to see the bodies – she had seen many during those nineteen missions – it was a surprise to see them inside Alaceda. There had been no indication that any rebels had been brought in for experimentation.

"You've already begun experimentation on human subjects?" Jennifer asked.

Tobias walked along a row of tables, looking down at the corpses. They were covered with blue sheets that hung over the edges. The circulating air caused them to move, giving the impression of life where everything was dead.

She stopped at one man and touched the probe protruding from his head, examining it. "It's still in the early stages, but yes, I have. I prefer to know what I'm doing before actually trying it on a live body. Keeps my ego in check."

Jennifer approached the body, her eyes temporarily redirected at the rat that skittered down the doctor's arm and on to the torso of the corpse, remnants of its prized cracker still in its mouth. She looked at the probe, studying its design. Its portal had been attached to the skull of the subject, embedded in the bone. She suspected it was deep enough to contact brain matter stored within the cavity.

"This is your latest attempt?" Jennifer inquired.

"More like the latest step," Tobias said, pulling over a cart of equipment. She turned on one of the monitors. It promptly displayed a graphical analysis of the probe's location in the brain.

"All these subjects are in different states of progress, then?" Jennifer asked.

Tobias pulled a stool from under the gurney and sat down on it, turning to the equipment. She began querying information.

"Chronologically, yes. The early ones illustrate quite blatantly where I went wrong. This one, though," she said, patting the corpse on the shoulder, "this is my best work yet. Now that you're here, I can move forward and finish my work."

Jennifer felt eagerness well. She would finally be a productive part of the doctor's work and not just a simple spy for their lord.

"What is my task?"

"So far, I have been manually placing these probes. I want to automate that so that it can be done by the subject. I have to take the guesswork out of the placement." She enlarged the image on the screen. "I believe I have mapped where I need to go. I just need a way to get the technology there with some semblance of automation."

The cadet was perplexed. "Why not have one of the surgeons perform the procedure?"

"Because it has to be precise. One false move, and the recipient is thrown into a vegetative state. That would not look good on my resume. So, I've been practicing on these," she said, referring to the corpses. "I'm confident about the placement. I just need a way to do it quickly."

A wave of satisfaction wafted through Jennifer at the mention of a real job. "I'll need your data to begin designing a process."

"I'll transfer it to the terminal in your quarters. In the meantime, you'll be assisting in personnel reassignment this afternoon."

"Oh?"

Tobias put her hand on the back of the white rat, caressing it gently. It sat still, enjoying her attention, much to Jennifer's surprise.

"Meet your new bunkmate."

"Doctor?"

The doctor was direct. "You will provide this rat with a name, construct a habitat for it that is a thriving environment. You will oversee every aspect of its care, including scheduled daily physical contact with it."

"I don't understand."

"I'm getting that a lot from you lately," Tobias noted. It seemed to be with an air of satisfaction that Jennifer found disconcerting. "Cadet, you will find that my orders are generally precise and simple. I want you to give this animal a name and give it a home."

"I am to adopt it as a pet? There are regulations against such practices."

"No here. This is my domain, my rules. Are my orders clear to you?"

Jennifer had no choice but to comply. "Yes, Doctor."

"Good," Tobias said, pleased. "Take your pet. I want a detailed oral report from you at the end of every week. You're dismissed for the remainder of today to study the implantation notes and to construct the habitat."

Chase hesitated, uncomfortable. "I don't know how to construct one."

"It's very simple," Tobias said encouragingly. "Comfort and functionality are the key goals. Just as you find comfort in your bed at night, so should this animal."

"But what about the name? What parameters should I use?"

Tobias blinked several times in what Jennifer took to be agitation. "That is something you should decide. You have a name, and I have a name. This rat should have a name. Find what inspires you." She nodded. "Dismissed."

Jennifer stood there, overwhelmed at the turn in direction of her assigned tasks.

"Dismissed, cadet," Tobias said again, a little more forcefully.

Chase reached down and picked up the rat with one hand, creating a hammock for it on its underside. It did not fight her. Its nose just twitched more in curiosity as she walked out of the lab with it and back to her quarters. She endured several stares from workers in the facility as she proceeded but paid them no attention. She had been given an order by a superior.

When she entered her room, the console in the corner displayed a message that there were files waiting for her. As much as she wanted to forget about the rat, she could not. It had been the primary assignment, not to mention that the rat would be running loose if she did nothing to secure it. She looked about her shelves to find something in which to place the animal. Had she been thinking effectively, she would have just taken one of the cages from the lab and used that. Tobias had not exactly restricted her from doing so, but she had also ordered Jennifer to construct a habitat. At present, she needed one quickly.

At first, she took her duffel bag from the closet and attempted to mold a makeshift cage. She placed the rat in the bottom with some crackers ordered from the food portal. Then she settled at her desk and began reading the documents Tobias had sent her on the project. Movement caught the corner of her eye at the rat began climbing a series of obstacles across the desk in the spirit of exploration. She captured it as it sat atop one of the small communications monitors. She placed it back in the duffel and placed a data pad over the top of the bag, but less than five minutes later, it had managed to worm its way to freedom.

Thus began a series of mini experiments. Jennifer used everything at her disposal short of placing the rat in a drawer and locking it inside to secure the animal. Each time she thought she had successfully contained it, the rat would find a way to escape. The battle continued until the room was littered with discarded attempts at temporary but secure rat housing. Containers of every proportion were strewn about the room as each proved unsuccessful. Using the desk drawer was tempting, but she knew she could be subject to inspection at any moment by Tobias concerning her progress. A drawer was obviously not a viable habitat for an animal.

Then there was the issue of naming it. It occurred to her that she had no idea what constituted a naming scheme. When she thought about it, she had no idea how she had gotten her own name. Surely, Lord Dread had rules for naming the members of his corps, but no one had ever bothered to inform her what they were. She never had cause to ask. Now, she was tasked with naming a rat as part of her assignment, with no prior reference or knowledge of what constituted a proper name.

She thought about the rat and its ability to escape. It reminded her of chemistry lessons about a silver liquid that was hard to contain. It caused Jennifer to smile involuntarily. The name seemed so apropos.

"Mercury," she said aloud, feeling strangely pleased that the name she had chosen seemed to fit so well.

The rat seemed nonplussed by its new identification. It approached her on the desk, eternally sniffing for information it deemed important. She tentatively reached out to it and stroked its back. It did not shy away from her. Instead, it seemed to crave her touch, moving into it and looking for more.

She ordered another cracker from the dispenser and gave it to the rodent. It took it from her into its tiny hands and began methodically consuming it. It took up a space of observation near the monitor that contained the research data. She grew tired of battling it. The rat seemed content to be near her. It sat on it haunches, eating and sniffing. She found that if she just left it alone, it stayed in one place. Jennifer was content to do whatever was necessary to be able to read the research notes.

Once she did manage to get fully involved in the files, she found herself in a myriad of information. It was as Tobias said – she had successfully embarked on a way to merge man and machine with an interface in the brain. Though the probe appeared to be simply a steel shank, it was far more complicated. Its surface interacted with brain matter, analyzing cells and communicating with them along its length. As she read, she understood why Tobias had placed such emphasis on precision insertion of the probe. Brain function had been mapped in far more detail than Jennifer had ever seen. Each cell was accounted for along the probe, each assigned an interface task that served a purpose in allowing the body to communicate on a cybernetic level. It was nothing like prosthetics currently in use. Prosthetics were mere replacements for body parts. The probe, however, was the gateway to another universe. It was the door through which the operator passed from mere mortality to the infinite world of data streams and higher consciousness.

Tobias had included a diary of progress, including video material. Jennifer reviewed everything available in the file, wanting to understand the project from its inception. The work spanned over ten years. The doctor looked so much younger in the early entries, though only in the manner of skin. Her eyes were just as intense then as they were that morning in the lab. Even then, her work was conducted on cadavers. She chronicled everything she did, speaking her actions and noting them in writing as she worked. It was all done in the Alaceda lab, which had changed little since the beginning of the entries.

Jennifer's thoughts suddenly dissolved into a thousand shards as the communications console lit up with an incoming message.

She slid her chair over to address it. She expected Tobias to be on the screen, checking on her progress. Instead, the visage of Lord Dread filled the screen. Her heart ran cold with the surprise communication.

"Youth Leader Chase," he said in a raspy voice.

"My lord," she said confidently, "I have progress to report."

"And?"

"Her work in cybernetics has been quite successful. I've been given access to the research files and am reviewing them."

Lord Dread looked pleased. "Transmit them to me now."

Jennifer worked to comply with his order only to be met with a flashing red messaging telling her the files were encrypted and required proper authorization to transmit them.

"My lord," she said nervously, "the files are locked. I'm unable to transmit them to you."

He gave a scowl. "Of course they are." His concentration floated to the side of his transmission view. "What is that rodent doing at your workstation?" he demanded.

Again, her heart raced. "It is part of an assignment given to me by Doctor Tobias," was all she could muster.

"To what end?"

"She has not stated its purpose yet, my lord," Jennifer said, hoping the answer was satisfactory. "But I am complying in an effort to gain her trust."

Dread considered her words for a moment. "Impressive tactic, Youth Leader Chase."

"Thank you, my lord," she said, relieved.

"I want a full written report from you immediately on your findings of the research project."

"The files are quite large and extensive. If I may be permitted time, I can more accurately report her progress to you."

"How long?"

Jennifer looked at the number of files in the record. "A week, perhaps longer, if I am to read all I have been given."

He looked displeased. A tiny part of her, so minute that it hardly existed, did not care. She was shocked by it and pushed it down with vigor. It had no place in her loyalty to Lord Dread and the will of the machines.

"Very well," he said finally, "a week."

The screen blanked out, sending a wave of relief through her that the grilling was done. The silence in her quarters was interrupted only by the sound of Mercury inflicting tiny bites on the cracker. His tiny black eyes watched her, peering at her with a sort of passivity she did not expect. When she moved, the rat remained in place, calm and satisfied.

There was no sense in trying to cage the animal, she concluded. No matter what she tried, Mercury was able to escape. The only solution she could muster was to give it the run of her quarters until she could discuss the matter with Doctor Tobias. Until then, she would form a truce with Mercury and let it sit on the desk or wherever it wanted, as long as it did not interrupt her review of the files. There was much to read and learn, and there was no reason a rat should stand in the way of the will of the machines and Lord Dread.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay in this chapter. My G.I. Joe story needed to be wrapped up before I took on this monster again. Since this is currently my only WIP, my attention will be on telling this story. So, with any luck, my time will be mine, and I'll be able to keep the story rolling. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you check back in every now and then to see what happens.

Thanks!

**Chapter 6**

The probe lab, as Tobias had come to call it, was kept at a constant chilled temperature. The cadavers had been treated to keep them "fresh", a term that seemed inadequate to Jennifer when describing the process of stopping the breakdown of cellular tissue upon death. Twelve bodies had been the subject of intense documentation over the months of occupation in the lab. Each had been assigned a number to identify them, which seemed appropriate. All rebels were assigned a number when they were taken into custody.

Jennifer entered the anterior lab area, where the rats were kept, and was greeted by Tobias as usual.

"Good morning, cadet," she said from behind her large desk.

"Doctor," Jennifer said in reply.

Tobias stood. "Come here. I want to try something."

She led Jennifer to the probe lab's door. It was closed and locked as it usually was until Tobias opened it.

"Put your eye to the scanner," she ordered.

Surprised, Jennifer did as she was told and leaned in to the scanner. At once, the horizontal green scanner lit up and began taking inventory of the structure of her eye. She forced herself to keep her eye open, despite the painful blast of light crossing over it.

Her reaction was not lost on Tobias.

"Your eyes are red," the doctor said. "Why?"

Chase blinked, trying to bring moisture back to her eyes. "I've been reading the material you gave me on the probe project."

"Ah, burning the midnight oil," Tobias said with satisfaction.

"The what?"

Tobias smiled. "It's an old Earth saying. It means you haven't been getting much sleep."

Tobias's data on the implant was voluminous. In all of Jennifer's research efforts, she had never seen such detail in project documentation. The doctor noted information so minute that it seemed pointless. Then, Jennifer would see later on how that one little piece of information fit into the big picture and the reason why Tobias had included it. The logic of it all was mind-boggling. Tobias was eons ahead of her time in research. She was not repeating lessons of science and theory in her work. She was setting the bar, making it up as she went. Biomechanics were her world. She made the rules, played a creator with her own two hands. The doctor was gifted, and she would be elevated one day to nearly the same status as Lord Dread, Jennifer was sure.

Jennifer stepped back and looked at Tobias. "The data is intriguing."

"Just intriguing? That's some of my best work, cadet, and all I get from you in an 'intriguing'?"

She feared Tobias was angry until she saw the doctor's amusement again. Jennifer could not help but smile at her own description and how inadequate it was. The work was extraordinary by any measure.

"It's amazing," Jennifer complimented, still trying to suppress the grin that had formed.

"You have a nice smile," Tobias said. "It's a shame you don't show it more often."

The smile Tobias noted disappeared quickly. Smiling was a sign of emotion. Emotion was frowned upon in the corps.

Tobias winked. "Don't worry – I won't tell your Lord Dread you smiled. Frankly, I don't think he's ever known what it's like, either."

Jennifer watched as Tobias entered command codes into the scanner. It beeped twice, indicating it accepted her wishes.

"There," Tobias said with satisfaction, "you now have access to the probe lab during approved hours."

Chase saw an opportunity that was inviting – to be able to access the lab away from Tobias's supervision. Then, she could get more details for her report to Lord Dread.

Then Tobias added, "That translates as only when I'm here, and no poking around after hours."

Jennifer's heart fell at the addition. She was good at masking it, though.

"Of course," she said coolly, knowing full well that Tobias was on to the game and had been from the beginning. Everything Tobias had ordered her to do or not to do had been with the purpose of shielding the research progress from Lord Dread.

"I know it's disappointing," Tobias said, "but it's quite necessary. You're young and not wise enough to handle the finer points of why your access is limited. In short, you haven't quite earned my trust. As such, you're a liability to me, one I'm forced to endure."

Jennifer immediately took offense, even though the accusation was true. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Doctor."

Tobias took her by the arm, not quite pulling her to the desk but urging her all the same. She reached down and pulled up a secure connection to Alaceda's communications array. At once, a replay of Jennifer's last transmitted report to Lord Dread began playing on the screen, leaving her speechless.

"I told you when you first came here that this place was mine," Tobias said, talking over the audio of the recording. "I made this lab and everything in it. That includes the communications system."

Jennifer watched the playback, still shocked that she had been caught. "Do you wish me to replace me?"

Tobias stopped the recording. She sat down on the edge of the desk and folded her arms, pulling her robes tightly about her. "No," she said. Her face looked sad, if Jennifer correctly interpreted the countenance. "I want you to think before you act. Everything you do has a result, no matter how insignificant it seems, no matter how loyal it feels."

Chase looked at Tobias with brave eyes. "I have my orders directly from Lord Dread to report your progress."

"So you do," Tobias conceded. "And, you'll have a great deal to report to him in the next few weeks."

The answer was unexpected. "You won't block my access to information?"

"No need," Tobias said. "I eventually have to report to him anyway. Whether you do it or I do it is a matter of accuracy. I'd much rather do it myself than have you give him a partial truth as far as the progress of the project. My ego is nearly as big as his, and I do wish that he understands correctly how much better at this I am than he is."

Tobias cleared her throat. "Not that it will stop your reports to Dread. I suspect he'll want those to continue, which means there's not a lot I can do about that." She took a deep breath. "Oh well. We'll just keep moving forward."

The doctor moved to her chair behind the desk and sat down in it heavily. "Now, tell me about your progress with your pet assignment."

Jennifer organized her report in her head at lightning speed. She liked being prepared, and she had taken the time to wrangle the facts as she knew them for the assignment.

"It's adapting well."

"What name did you give it?"

"Mercury," Jennifer reported.

Tobias displayed genuine interest. "And how did you come up with that?"

Jennifer was reluctant to answer but knew the doctor would only press harder for the answer. "It's difficult to control."

Tobias cut loose with a throaty laughter that startled Jennifer. Then she smiled, pleased.

"Very good, cadet. That's a very clever name. And the habitat – I take it that had something to do with your naming scheme?"

"They're a very resourceful species," Jennifer said, much more serious about the issue than Tobias seemed to be.

"That they are," Tobias agreed. "What did you end up doing for the habitat?"

Jennifer felt her cheeks grow warm. It was the one part of the assignment she did not feel she had completed successfully.

"I'm still studying my options," she said.

"Studying options?" Tobias queried. "Where is Mercury being kept right now?"

"I've allowed it the run of my quarters until I can provide an effective means of containing it."

The answer seemed diplomatic enough.

"Brave," Tobias said with an approving nod. There was something in the way she did it, though, that gave Jennifer the sense that the good doctor was patronizing her.

"I'll have a full report for you by the end of tomorrow's work period," Jennifer offered.

Tobias was nonplussed. "It's your rat, your quarters. I never gave you a time limit. All I said was that you needed to provide a nourishing environment for it. The speed at which you do that is up to you."

She had done it again, Jennifer inwardly groused. Once more, the doctor had practically tricked her into false perceptions. It was frustrating and irritating. It was amusing child's play to the most brilliant mind in biomedical research, and Jennifer was the toy. That type of conduct would never have been tolerated within the walls of Volcania, except they were not in Volcania. They were in a facility where Tobias made the rules. In no uncertain terms, the doctor intended for the rules to be followed. Still, there was a sense of vagueness in some of the directives that were intentional, as if a test of the cadet's faculties. Tobias seemed to be going out of her way to push Jennifer's patience to the limit.

Tobias rose from her chair and headed toward the probe lab. She motioned for Jennifer to follow. As usual, the room was cool, in deference to the preservation of the probe subjects. Tobias sat down at the head of the latest probe subject, the one she had indicated was the best effort to date. She turned on the probe's control panel and began working.

"Have a seat," Tobias said, nodding to a stool. She reached for a mobile cart on which sat a stereomicroscope. Several prepared specimen slides were racked and awaiting examination. Tobias picked up the first one in the group and placed it on the stage. Her eyes seem to disappear as she looked into the lenses, making it appear as though the instrument had suddenly become an extension of her body.

Jennifer sat down on the stool and observed the doctor's work. That was the mission – to observe the proceedings in the research and report progress and abnormalities. A problem arose after nearly five minutes of silence. The doctor was not saying anything that amounted to new information.

"Doctor," Jennifer asked cautiously.

"Hmm?" Tobias muttered, intently studying the images in the microscope.

"What's in that sample?"

"Brain tissue from our latest subject," Tobias said plainly.

"May I ask why?" she challenged.

If Tobias was insulted or impatient, she did not show it. "I'm examining a sample of cells surrounding the probe insertion to see how badly they're damaged in the implantation process."

It was an interesting investigation. "How bad is it?"

Tobias finally wrenched her eyes from the scope. "Take a look for yourself. Tell me what you see."

She moved out of the way for Jennifer to step up to the microscope and see what had Tobias so preoccupied. The sample had been stained in purple, accentuating the tissue, which was a cross-section. In the center was hole, presumably where the probe had been inserted. Tobias's interest in it became clear. The cells surrounding the hole looked dented, some torn. Jennifer noted what she saw to the doctor.

"Very good, cadet," Tobias congratulated. "You have good perception."

"I'm not sure I understand your concern, though. Given the small diameter of the probe and the precision placement, this damage seems to be minimal."

"It's minimal until it causes a breakdown in synapses that are crucial to the project," Tobias answered. For the first time, Jennifer heard the tiniest hint of frustration in her voice.

"I don't see how you can achieve absolute integrity of the cells directly in contact with the probe. Some will undoubtedly be destroyed in the implantation process."

Tobias stifled a yawn. "Yes, they will. However, there's always the possibility of cellular regeneration. If I can just harness the secret to copying a cell over before it's destroyed, then I can replace them along the probe's route."

The plan suddenly began to dawn on Jennifer, like someone had turned on a bright light that beamed in her eyes. "That's why you want to automate the implantation process."

"Correct," Tobias said. "If I know where it's going, I can copy the cells that will be damaged and put them back once the probe is in place. So you see, even the steadiest of surgeons won't cut it for this project. I need a machine that will perform with microscopic precision every time and never deviate in its process. Otherwise, I'd be lucky to map even two percent of the damage."

The task seemed easy in Jennifer's mind. She was racing in a world of designs and prototypes, swimming in her own fantasy of machine perfection and automation.

"This helps me visualize my part of your research, Doctor."

"Tell me," Tobias said, with all genuine interest.

Jennifer looked at the current probe subject's head. "Well," she began, "first, exact dimensions of the implantation subject will need to be calculated. Landmarks on the surface will need to be noted, perhaps even implanted in the bone for consistent calibration."

"Yes," Tobias agreed. "Go on."

"The subject should be sedated to bring all active functions to a halt, with life support provided if necessary. The insertion is then completed on a fully automated system."

Tobias clapped her hands in a quiet applause. "Very good, cadet."

Jennifer felt a sense of accomplishment at her theory until her mind brought everything to a screeching halt. "This doesn't make sense," she blurted.

Again, that amused look crossed the doctor's face. "And why not?"

"Because an implantation device is elementary work for you. Your skills far exceed mine in that area."

"True," Tobias agreed, managing to not sound conceited. "However, my eyes get tired from time to time. When you stare at a project long enough, you can become complacent, careless. I needed someone to see it for the first time and confirm my theories."

"Then why not Doctor Peterson or the others who have worked with you? They're certainly more qualified in these areas than I am."

Tobias stood and pushed the cart with the microscope out of the way. "Because they have an agenda," she said. "They're accomplished researchers in their own rights, and that clouds their judgment. Their need to get ahead in this world would taint the results."

"Does that mean you trust me more?"

She gave a smirk. "No. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But," she said, "I do know for certain that you'll at least budge when I shove you, which is more than I can say for the likes of Doctor Peterson."

Once more, Jennifer felt the muscles that lined her back stiffen with rebuke at the doctor's words. Tobias, she knew, looked upon her as a child – one who was unworldly and was nothing more than fresh meat for her research grinder. The cadet corps was being undercut for credit in terms of giving its privileged members knowledge of the world as it was and should be within the precepts of Lord Dread's empire. It would have been useless if it did not educate its students in the ways of warfare and control, for that was the destiny of those who graduated from its ranks. She came away time and time again with the distinct impression that Doctor Tobias was inflexible and in constant contempt for the one who would soon rule the entire world in the name of the machines.

"I'm not sure if I should consider that a compliment," Jennifer said defiantly, aware there was a chill in her tone.

Tobias was unfazed. "Consider it what you will, cadet. As long as you're here, we'll play by my rules, and you'll comply with my orders. I may not always agree with your precious Lord Dread, but I do have a direct line of communication to his lair."

The threat was ominous, suddenly causing a chill in the already cooled room. Jennifer had pushed too far, and she knew it instantly. Years of conditioning kicked into gear, where she had learned what happened to those who challenged authority too much.

"My apologies, Doctor Tobias," she said after a moment. "I did not intend to question your authority over me." Still, an edge remained in her voice that she had little control to quell.

Tobias smiled again. "Yes, you did. Believe it or not, that's something I like about you. You aren't afraid to speak your mind, though I suspect you've been trained well to hold your tongue when put to the test."

"It is not a cadet's place to question authority."

"Why? You seem intelligent enough to think on your own, to make your own judgments based on perception of a situation."

"The chain of command is clear within Lord Dread's vision for our future." Jennifer was growing angry again.

Tobias seemed to acquiesce, weary of the discussion. "So it is." The point seemed to hang in the air until she changed the subject entirely. "I'll expect you to begin rough drafts of your ideas for the placement device as soon as possible."

"Of course," Jennifer answered, burying the tiny quiver that wanted to erupt in her vocal chords. Her heart pounded with the stress of the confrontation.

"I require full documentation. Verbal ideas get lost if not recorded in some way. To be completely honest, my memory isn't what it used to be. Age is a hell of a thing some days."

Tobias turned to the probe subject again, examining the entrance incision. "You'll have full access to the lab during the times I am present. You're not to be in here alone without permission, understood?"

"Understood," Jennifer replied. Her shoulders relaxed a bit. The confrontation was over for the time being. She was at least sure of that. Had Tobias wanted to pursue the matter any more, she would have.

The doctor stood and offered the space to Chase. "Your turn. I'll be in the other room doing some work. I suggest you and number twelve here get acquainted. Call me if you need anything."

Jennifer stepped back as Tobias brushed by her and disappeared into the anterior lab. Then she was alone with the probe subject. She sat down at the head of the gurney and looked at the task before her. Her mind was already churning with ideas. She began recording notes on a terminal to the side so that she would not forget them. Despite the confrontation with Tobias, Jennifer felt an eagerness to please her. She also knew Lord Dread was waiting for more substantial information than what she had been providing him of late. All of it was superficial, and even what she had decided to report to him had not been the full story. She defended her decision to hold back on certain details in that she felt she did not have enough information to make a solid report. This, though, she could report in nearly its entirety. It was pure intelligence that Lord Dread had been seeking on the project's progress. Her report would contain empirical information he could analyze.

She began sketching out rough ideas of the insertion device, noting all the information she would require to make it come to fruition. Most of it was knowledge Tobias knew, but the questions would have to be asked in order to complete the assignment. Already, Jennifer had a good foundation of the project. She had spent long nights reading, to the point that it had caught up with her that morning. She found herself devouring the doctor's research, wanting more. Now, she would be a part of that process. Her name would be associated with the greatest link between the human body and the machine world. Her work would most undoubtedly bring about that final vision of Lord Dread. It would be quite an accomplishment for a cadet who had not yet even graduated from the Youth.

In the quiet of the lab, Jennifer allowed herself a small smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Here we go, though not as soon as I had hoped (as usual). Again, thanks so much for reading. This story has quite a road ahead of it to lead up to where Resurrection began. I hope you enjoy the journey.**

**Chapter 7**

The day had ended in accordance with Tobias's wishes. Jennifer was not ready for it to be over, though. The study time in the lab had passed so quickly that she hardly realized that eight hours had gone by since she was first given access to the probe device.

Jennifer walked through the halls of Alaceda, pleased with herself that she had been weaned from the medication to help her with the claustrophobic reactions she had when she first arrived. It felt like an accomplishment, proving that she was of good stock and of value to the Dread Youth corps of cadets. She was on her way to becoming a leader in her own right. All her commanders had told her that, infinitely pleased with her disciplined approach to her destiny. Memorization was no longer a task but a practice. She learned to absorb and retain what she read or saw or heard without trying. Jennifer far exceeded her classmates in that area, and it had begun to reap proper rewards.

The tunnel leading to her quarters was dimly lit as Alaceda began winding down from the day's operations. Only critical areas remained fully powered. Non-critical areas went to a standby mode in order to decrease the tax on base power generators. She was alone in the corridor, left to organized thought about her assignment. Doctor Tobias had given her quite the task. It was the opportunity to be a part of a crucial turning point in history – melding man and machine into one unstoppable entity. She silently wondered if her name would be associated with the accomplishment at all. It was not that she necessarily cared that it was, but it would be interesting if her contributions would be recognized alongside one of the greatest research minds the world had ever known. After all, she was not even out of the Youth yet and hardly recognized as a valid member of Lord Dread's forces.

The came to the door into her quarters and typed her pass code into the panel. The door slid open quietly and closed in the same way behind her once she was inside her room. She was shocked to see it in such disarray. All her attempts at harnessing Mercury lay strewn about the room. The condition of her quarters would have earned her severe punishment by an overunit had she been subject to audit or inspection. However, she was on her own now, and the only eyes she had to worry about were Doctor Tobias's. She doubted the doctor would find the condition of the living quarters a sparring point.

Jennifer looked around the room, suddenly remember that Mercury had been giving free reign. It was not visible on any of the open surfaces. She began to search for the rat, worry setting in when she had moved all of the clutter and had still not located it.

She got down on her hands and knees and began searching in earnest under the bunk and in the closet. Unable to find it, she looked in the last place in the room – under the desk. Sitting in the corner in the back was Mercury, It rose up when it saw her, sniffing the air with curiosity. Carefully, she reached toward it. The rat stayed, unafraid. She gently grasped its torso and pulled it out from under the desk.

Her communications station was still lit up with the documentation from the probe project. Jennifer sat down, placing Mercury on the highly polished surface of the desk. She ordered food tablets from the dispenser and placed them on the desk in a small pile. After that, she began to study the reports from the probe project. Before long, she felt manic whiskers on her arm and the tiny fingers of Mercury's cold paws on her forearm. She pushed it away toward the pile of food pellets and returned her concentration to the data files. After a few moments, Mercury returned to her arm, touching her, craning its neck to look up at her. She pushed at it again, but it was to no avail. Mercury padded over to where her arms were resting on the desk.

Jennifer remembered that the rat enjoyed crackers. Perhaps that would occupy it long enough for her to get some work done. She got one from the dispenser and gave it to an eager Mercury. This time, though, Mercury rejected it, tossing it aside. Her frustration rose in intensity. She was tired and had no energy to figure out what a rodent required at that hour. Mercury sat up on its haunches, elongating its body. Tiny forearms looked like grotesque miniature hands.

Her mind quickly went to her daily routine of care for the animals. It wanted something, and without an ability to speak, it was her responsibility to decipher what that was. It was part of the assignment given by Tobias. The rat was supposed to thrive, not die or want for anything. When it hit her, the answer was one that made her angry. She had forgotten to provide the most basic necessity to a mammal – water. At once, she filled a cup and placed it in front of Mercury. It immediately began lapping up eager amounts of it.

A sense of relief washed over her at having found the answer. The rat seemed satisfied and occupied with its new source of sustenance. Jennifer returned to her chair and began reading the project information once more. After a while, Mercury seemed to take interest in the information, too. It waddled over again and sat near her arm, looking up at the screen. It had brought the cracker with it and was turning it in its hands, biting off clean edges as it went.

It was the routine that began to take shape over the following days. As long as Mercury had run of the room, she would be subject to the rat's constant interruptions. Theirs became a scheduled set of actions. Several times, she tried to house it in a secure box of some sort, but the rat became vocal and distractive until she would eventually free it from its containment and put it on the desk with her. It had become a losing battle of sorts. It was much easier to appease the rat with simple acts than to endure elaborate setups to simply ignore it. Besides, she reasoned, many animals relied on socialization to thrive. She could not find any data on rats and their need for it, but there was existing data on other species that required it for successful living. She was not about to take any chances. Mercury would not be allowed to rejoin its brethren, so she would have to act as a surrogate. She found a large, clear container and constructed quite a comfortable abode for a rat using old materials around the base that had been discarded, including an old wooden box that fit perfectly in the corner. The top lid was gone, providing a small room for it. If it was possible for a rat to display happiness, Mercury did.

The probe data was always at the fore of Jennifer's mind. During the day, Doctor Tobias would go into more detail of certain aspects of the project. At night, Jennifer returned to her quarters to review everything she could find of that point, all with Mercury sitting at her side on the desk. It began to seem as though they studied together. On days when the doctor was particularly sharp or Jennifer failed in a task, it was Mercury who seemed to be the constant at night. The rat did not require explanations or the recitation of doctrines. It never chastised. It never praised vocally, for that matter. It did, however, have a sense of camaraderie with the cadet. At first, Jennifer thought it imagination that Mercury purposely came out of hiding in its box when she entered her quarters at the end of the day. After the third night in a row of the same result, she knew it was not. The rat was actively seeking her presence, even though she had made sure to leave plenty of food and water for it while she was gone. They began reviewing the data together on a nightly basis.

One night, as they sat together at the desk, Mercury seemed particularly restless. While it usually was content to sit on the desk, that night, it began trying to climb on to her arm. Jennifer gently picked Mercury up and put it back down to where its cracker lay abandoned. The rat would have nothing of it and continued its attempts to climb. Finally, she picked Mercury up in her hand and stared into its face.

"I have work to do," she said.

Mercury blinked, its nose twitching wildly. It did not struggle in her grasp. Instead, its body curled up as if to make more contact with her. She had no idea what to do. It was clear it would not stay on the desk, but she needed her hands free to correlate data. The only solution she could muster was to put the rat on her shoulder. The sensation of its whiskers on her skin was strange and unexpected. Mercury was soft and gentle, skirting her collar to the other shoulder. In all, it seemed to be happy. She picked up a piece of the cracker and handed it to the rat. The tiny munching sound was loud in her ear, but there was a sense of calmness to it. The warmth of touch was strangely comforting to Jennifer. Her discipline said that it was all wrong. Pets were not allowed. They were strictly forbidden, in fact. If this were Volcania, she would have been severely punished.

However, she was not in Volcania. She was in Alaceda. She had literally been ordered by Doctor Tobias to assume the care of Mercury. An order was an order, and Tobias was certainly high up in the chain of command. An order should always be obeyed.

The project, itself, was moving rapidly. Jennifer's prototype program for probe insertion was getting praise from Doctor Tobias. The next morning would be crucial to moving forward in the project. It would be tested on a new cadaver, which was scheduled to arrive at first light. Since coming to Alaceda, only the original twelve bodies had been used for the project. Now, they would be getting a fresh experiment with which to work. There would be no evidence of prior insertions, and all the research that had been conducted on what resources were currently available would be put to the test with a fully clean subject. It was an exciting thought, though Jennifer noted silently that Tobias did not seemed as thrilled with the prospect. More than once, it seemed the doctor was angry or resented that she had to do the work. Her enthusiasm for what she had accomplished thus far did not seem adequate. Jennifer had not yet worked up the courage to ask why, and instinct told her she might even regret asking.

The time for sleep approached, and it was something she felt she needed in great supply for once. Jennifer carefully extricated Mercury from her shoulder and placed it in its habitat. She readied herself to rest for the night and turned out the lights, leaving only the glow of the communications console. As she lay in her bunk, she stared over at Mercury's box. It was routing around, finally standing on its hind legs to take one last drink from its water bottle. Her mind drifted over the events that had brought her to this place. She always knew the overunits had more freedoms than the cadets, but she never imagined what it would be like to be so independent. Even though she was under the command of Doctor Tobias, she felt the latitude she had been given in her studies and work. She had been given choices to make, right or wrong. It was a sharp departure from the Dread Youth, where the regimentation was a way of life. She found herself looking to Tobias as a role model – strong and sure. Still, there were things about the doctor that she could not reconcile, one being her less than unwavering loyalty to Lord Dread. She had no idea why Doctor Tobias could not see the large vision of the empire, nor could she understand how the doctor could not revel in the fact that her work was a part of bringing about the revolution.

The communications console suddenly lit the room with indications of an incoming transmission. Jennifer bolted out of bed, knowing it could only be from one source. She sat down at the desk and tried to compose herself before answering.

Lord Dread's face filled the screen. His stern look sent ripples of anxiety through her.

"My lord," she said, forcing confidence to her voice.

"Report," he ordered.

"The project is making progress. Doctor Tobias is preparing to test the new probe insertion program on a fresh subject in the morning."

"Dead or alive?"

Jennifer knew what he meant. "She is not willing to test it on a live subject yet, my lord. She is insisting on a cadaver until all criteria have been satisfied."

Lord Dread mulled over information. "What is your opinion of the readiness?"

"I'm confident in my program and the insertion process," she said. "Tomorrow is a matter of confirmation."

Lord Dread's red prosthetic eye glowed intensely in the screen, reflecting down on the shiny surface of the desk like a red ball.

"And you're confident it will be a successful test?" he challenged.

She was aware her answer must be careful and diplomatic. "Doctor Tobias will be the final word on the success of the test."

It was not the right choice of words. Lord Dread leaned forward, agitated. "I'm asking what _you_ think, Youth Leader Chase."

He left her with no choice but to commit to an answer. "I believe the process will be successful, yes."

He sat back, pleased. "Very well. I want a full report tomorrow evening of the results."

"Yes, my lord," she answered, her head instinctively bowing at his command. "My lord," she said, hesitantly, "you there is something else you should know."

"Yes?" he said warily.

"Doctor Tobias is able to monitor your transmissions to me."

Lord Dread was not pleased. He leaned forward, looking menacing. "Are you certain?"

She looked downward. "Yes, my lord. She showed me a playback of my last report to you."

"I should have expected this," he said more to himself than the cadet, disdain hard in his voice. "Continue as planned. I'll deal with this situation personally."

"As you wish, my lord."

The screen darkened again as the transmission was ended. She was now wide-awake and knew sleep would not come for her. She pulled up the project data again and began reading through her contributions to it. She had already checked it countless times for accuracy, and so far, Tobias had not dissented on any of it. Still, it would not hurt to check again. Tomorrow was a monumental day in history if all went well. It would be a complete waste if something as small as an error in mathematical equations defeated it.

She heard Mercury in its box wanting to get out, but this was one time she would not oblige the animal. Her concentration had to be solely on the project and her portion of it. She studied the equations over and over again through the night. She ran every simulation she could, entering every variant possible that might sabotage the project. Jennifer even accounted for a loss of power during the procedure and determined that the probe machine would stop immediately and hold its position, causing no further harm.

The machine, itself, was not entirely impressive on the outside. It was a steel cube on the surface. However, it was what was inside that made it groundbreaking. Precision calibration guided its movements. Automated surgical implementations were positioned in cylindrical fashion inside and could be accessed as needed in every part of the procedure. Completely computer guided, it satisfied the doctor's requirement of steadiness during the probe implantation. Jennifer had found the portion of the program that drove the instruments was easy. It was ensuring the probe entered where it had been predicted each and every time. All of the current experiments had been a success so far.

Despite that success, Doctor Tobias seemed frustrated or even angry that the project was proceeding so well. Jennifer could not understand the doctor's reluctance to celebrate in the achievements made. Then again, Jennifer reasoned, perhaps Doctor Tobias was disappointed in other things with the project that were not yet known.

For just a moment, Jennifer closed her eyes to alleviate the burning in them. The next thing she knew, her waking alarm was sounding. She had fallen asleep at the desk, the screen still on the last piece of research she had been reviewing. Her back was sore from having slept in an awkward position. Tiny snapping sounds tickled up her spine as the vertebrae realigned. She stretched, looking over at Mercury's habitat. Unlike Jennifer, the rat did not enjoy the morning. It was nestled in its box, curled around and sleeping.

Jennifer prepared for the day. She took special care in her appearance. It was a monumental day in the life of the cadet, and she felt it appropriate that she should look her best. Once she had passed her own inspection, she stepped out into the corridor of Alaceda and began walking toward the lab. Her strides were confident, as though everyone should be made aware that she was about to graduate at the top of her class with the Dread Youth, that she had been chosen to work in the mountain complex because she was that dedicated to Lord Dread and the will of the machines. She doubted even overunits enjoyed personal communications from their leader, and in private quarters, at that.

Doctor Tobias was already waiting for her at the lab's door.

"We have a delivery at the hangar," the doctor said, foregoing any pleasantries.

She did not appear at all happy that the fruits of their work would be reaped later that morning. Instead, Tobias seemed unusually surly.

They walked to the hangar at a fast clip. Tobias was angry at something. Jennifer had to practically double time it just to keep up with the doctor's purposeful strides. Base workers stepped aside when they saw the doctor charging down the hall. For the first time, Jennifer saw a significant line of demarcation between those who worked at the base and the one person who was in charge of it all.

A cargo ship had docked in the hanger next to the slot where Jennifer had secured the first cargo ship. Workers were offloading an elongated box. She immediately recognized its shape and correctly associated it as cadaver storage. Tobias walked up to it and looked down at the unit that had been placed on a transport lift.

"Open it," she commanded of the closest dock worker.

He was not much older than Jennifer, but he was no elite member of the Dread Youth. He was a utility worker, a necessary tool in the chain of command in the new empire. His dark hair contrasted with the white coveralls he wore that were stained with hydraulic fluid.

He quickly snapped open the clamps on the side of the container and lifted the lid for the doctor's inspection.

She peered into the unit. She reached down and touched the cadaver, pressing two fingers firmly into its neck. Her jaw became steel as she pulled her hand out of the box. Tobias glared at the dock worker.

"Who sent this cargo?" she demanded.

He quickly pulled out a data pad from his pocket to confirm the information. His voice was weak and stammering as he relayed information to the doctor. There was a slight tremor in his fingers as he recalled the information.

"Th-the c-cargo was s-sent from Volcania," he finally managed. His stutter only revealed more of his imperfections and why he would rise no higher than manual labor in the destiny of Lord Dread's empire.

"_Who_ sent it?" she demanded.

He struggled even more under her scrutiny. "There is – isn't a n-name listed. Just w-where it came from, D-Doctor."

"Get it back on the ship," she said sharply, pointing her finger at the unit. Then she turned to Chase. "You – get in that pilot's seat and get us ready for take-off."

Tobais turned from them and stomped up the ramp into the cargo hold. She waited and watched as the dock worker guided the transport's forks until the cargo unit was back in its place. The worker knelt down and began securing it to the rack as Jennifer did a pre-flight sequence. She had no idea where they were going, and it did not really matter. She was getting a chance to fly again, and this was the most excitement she had seen all week.

"Get rolling," Tobias ordered, peering into the container unit.

Jennifer closed the back hatch to the carrier and began powering the engines to depart the hangar. She cleared the doors with the ease and precision that was expected of her. The cargo ship followed her every command, at one with her wishes. Instead of the exhilaration she felt the first time she had transported Tobias to Alaceda, Jennifer was now preoccupied with the doctor and her attention on the cargo pod in the back of the transport. Tobias was speaking into the container at the body.

The cadet could not help herself. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. In any case, she needed all the information she could gather to report to Lord Dread.

"Doctor?"

Tobias appeared distracted. "Fly to these coordinates – one-one-four, mark two-seven-eight."

Jennifer obediently entered the coordinates into the flight computer and set it on its way. She watched Tobias begin to administer to the corpse. After a moment, Jennifer realized the body was not dead. Tobias was talking to the man, opening medical supplies from the onboard stores. Her actions were purposeful and quick, reaching down into the container to minister to the man's injuries. When she was finished, she joined Jennifer on the flight deck and took her place in the right hand seat.

Jennifer had questions, but she knew she had to be careful in which ones she asked and in what manner. Tobias took control away from the pilot before any questions could be asked.

"How long until we land?"

Jennifer checked the navigation controls. "Forty-five minutes. Doctor, may I ask . . ."

"No," Tobias said shortly, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Just get us to those coordinates like I asked."

The doctor stared out at the cockpit window. Her face was red with anger. In the rare sunlight that lit the earth above the clouds, she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her mouth was tightly closed, jaw set with anger. Then, she appeared to have fallen asleep, though her eyes were still active, as though dreaming.

The coordinates were in the middle of the continent. A large settlement came into view, one larger than any Jennifer had seen on any of the training missions in the Dread Youth to date. Unlike the squalor that she was used to seeing with the rebels, the people at these coordinates were thriving.

Tobias perked up as they approached. She looked out the cockpit toward the ground. "Land behind the second building on the right."

Jennifer saw where Tobias meant. The settlement had two main rows of buildings. The second closest to their approach was large and seemed to be avoided by the crowds who otherwise roamed the streets quite freely.

The shuttle set down on the ground smoothly and without any jarring of its passengers. Tobias ordered the back hatch open as she exited the cockpit. Her walk was swift and angry as she tromped down the ramp and onto the dusty ground of the settlement. A receiving bay was open in the back of the building where they had landed. Jennifer quickly secured the ship with a pass code, powering down the engines. Then she was on her feet, walking to the back of the ship but not leaving it. Instead, she waited at the top of the ramp. She felt an uneasiness as she stood there, quite aware that they had set down without backup in what was probably a rebel stronghold.

An older man appeared in the receiving bay. He wore the dirty tunic of those who would some day serve the empire of the machines. His face was dirty and tired, stubble on his chin that seemed to match his short-cropped dark hair. Jennifer saw Doctor Tobias walk a quick clip toward the man, her robes trailing in her wake.

The man was bigger than Tobias by a foot. His gangly frame seemed to tower over her, yet his body language was not aggressive. Rather, he seemed nervous at the woman making a quick pace toward his position.

Jennifer crept forward, down the ramp, both a show of backup to the doctor and an effort to satisfy her own curiosity about the conversation taking place.

"What are you trying to pull with me?" Tobias hollered.

The man was taken aback. "Nothing, Doctor Tobias, I swear."

"Nothing?" she asked sharply. "I order cold bodies from you, and what do I get on the most important day I need them? I get a living, breathing specimen. Not only that, he's so damaged, he's useless to me!" she said, thumbing back toward the cargo ship.

"Damaged?" the man asked, as though trying to calm her down and buy time.

"Yes, damaged," she snapped. "A broken leg, multiple burns – where'd you find that one? In a garbage dump?"

The man shifted his weight from one leg to the other. His hand pushed his hair forward toward his forehead nervously. "I don't know what to tell you, Doctor Tobias. The order was changed first thing this morning."

"Who changed the order?"

The man looked down at the ground. "Lord Dread's overunits came here personally and changed it."

"My standing order with you is for corpses," she chastised. "Dead people. That one in the container is alive. So, here's what you're going to do."

The man was eager to oblige. "Whatever you want, Doctor."

"You're going to get that living, breathing body out of my cargo ship, and you're going to swap it free of charge for my usual order from you."

He was eager to rectify the situation in lieu of her ire. He called for two workers to remove the container from the ship and replace it with a corpse. In a matter of minutes, the containers were swapped, and the cargo Doctor Tobias wanted was secured aboard the ship. As the living specimen was brought into the receiving bay, Jennifer saw the doctor take one last look inside the container. Her eyes followed it until the workers turned the corner and were out of her sight.

"I'll be back, same time next week. You better have a more quality selection than what I've been getting from you lately."

"I'll have my best foragers on it immediately, Doctor," the man said quickly, relieved the confrontation was over.

Tobias gave him a stern look. "You do that." Then she turned and began a brisk pace back to the shuttle. "Get us out of here," she ordered Chase.

Jennifer complied immediately, sealing the cargo hold and activating the ship's thrusters to bring it airborne. She reversed her course and began the journey back to Alaceda. The entire trip was spent in silence as Tobias brooded over the change in plans. She was fuming as they arrived in Alaceda's hangar. Her only words were to the dock workers to bring the new container to the lab.

Jennifer kept up with the doctor's quick stride back to the lab. The workers pushed the container into the probe lab and transferred the contents to an empty gurney.

"Sterilize the body once they get it on a table," Tobias ordered, "and get the preservation chemicals prepped."

The doctor sat down heavily behind her desk, brooding. Jennifer looked at her for a moment, unnoticed. She had never seen Tobias so angry and disconcerted.

"Doctor?" she dared.

Tobias looked at her. "You have your assignment, cadet," she said pointedly, dismissing Jennifer in one fell swoop.

Chase turned into the lab in time to see the dock workers placing the new cadaver on a table next to subject number twelve. She immediately set to work getting the preservation chemicals and the sterilizing wash from the supply cabinets. Then, she rolled up her sleeves and began cleaning the cadaver as ordered. Her mind was not on her work. Something significant had just occurred, but she had no way of deciphering just how serious it was. Then, she heard an incoming message sound out at Tobias's desk.

Her ears perked up as she heard Tobias answer the call.

"Well, well – Lyman, how good of you to visit."

Who was Lyman? Jennifer's curiosity was piqued. Then it became cold shock as she heard Lord Dread's voice answer.

"Helene," he said icily. "I'm told you rejected the gift I sent you this morning."

At the far side of the lab was a set of consoles that monitored the outer lab area. Tobias used them to see who was at the door if the probe lab was sealed. She keyed up the lab and was shocked to see Lord Dread, himself, standing in front of the doctor's desk. No one had announced his arrival at Alaceda. Surely, the base should have been made aware that the leader of the empire was making an appearance.

"Gift?" Tobias said, incredulous. "You call setting my project off by yet another day a gift?"

"I would have thought you grateful for a live test subject."

She was undaunted. "My research is calculated, Lyman. I was specific in my parameters for test subjects. I don't need you meddling in my work." Tobias leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk.

Jennifer expected Lord Dread to display his wrath at such insolence, but the conversation continued without any such act.

"You've had plenty of time to complete this project. I need you to finish this work."

Tobias picked up a stylus off the desk and flicked at Lord Dread with defiance. It sailed right through him, causing his image to shimmer. He was nothing more than a hologram in the lab.

"Is that really necessary?" he said, unimpressed and annoyed.

She smiled quaintly. "At special moments like this, yes. I created most of the communications systems used around here. Allow me a little fun with them from time to time."

"Like intercepting privileged communiqués?"

"Oh, please," she said, waving him off, "like I didn't know you'd be doing that? Youth Leader Chase is your personal set of eyes on me. Of course you're going to have her tell all on a regular basis. And for the record, I don't give a _damn_ what she thinks this project is ready to do. She's little older than a child. She's not ready to play with the big kids yet. I'll tell you when the project is ready to proceed."

"Helene," he said, sounding tired of her games, "you will comply with my orders. You're being given all you ask for on my good graces. Don't test me. You will step up your testing schedule to a live subject by the end of the week."

"Or else?"

"Or," Lord Dread said, "you'll find out just how much control I have over your life and of those around you."

She scoffed at him. "Don't threaten me, Lyman. I don't take kindly to it."

"Then don't test my patience," he countered. "You will learn once and for all that I hold power over everything, including you."

"I'm not one of your test tube constructs. Save your threats and posturing for them. You'll get your live test soon enough, but not before I fully test on the subjects I've requested."

"I've sent you hundreds of live subjects for all your projects, yet you bargain with that wretched dealer for cadavers for your most important work yet. It's rather insulting."

"The rebels are living in squalor, subject to bacteria and disease. It would be a waste of test subjects to simply forge ahead with live ones, knowing the test will fail because of the possibility of rejection by the body of the device. Besides," she added, "I get you your share of information. You've made good use of the intelligence."

He mulled her comment. "It has been valuable, I will admit. However, my patience with the rebels is waning. I want results. The time to end this so-called war is now."

"You do realize," she said, "that the live tests will ultimately produce fatalities? I will require quite a few live subjects when I actually am ready to fully implement the project."

"You'll have what you need. I've already assured you of that."

She sat up straight in her chair, her feet clapping onto the floor. "Fine. Then we understand one another. I give you the numbers I need once I have the final figures."

"Alaceda has the proper holding facilities up to standard? The prisoners can be quite resourceful."

Tobias looked bored. "Of course they are. They're not going anywhere once they're in lockdown, which is more than I can say for your little operation's track record."

Lord Dread did not find humor in her words. "I expect those numbers soon, Helene."

There was no goodbye, no farewell. Lord Dread's image shimmered away into nothingness. Doctor Tobias reached out and picked up another stylus. She flicked it where Lord Dread's image had been.

"And the people in hell want ice water," she said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Whew! This one is being delivered a little faster. Please forgive the time it takes to set up some foundations with this chapter. I assure you, it all means something. As always, thanks for reading! **

**Chapter 8**

The monumental test day came and went without any actual tests taking place. Tobias, angry and sulking, dismissed Jennifer for the rest of the day. It was becoming habit when the doctor was upset. She would lock herself in the lab, excluding Jennifer from witnessing some vital steps in the probe process. The next day, the progress would be presented in an encapsulated form, to be digested later in reports that scrolled across the console in Jennifer's quarters at night.

The newest test subject had been prepared for the procedure as Tobias had ordered. Jennifer could ill stand the stench that rose off the body of the now-dead rebel who had met its demise before the machines. It sickened her every time she was around them. The missions her cadre had been on to round up resistance fighters had been successful, but she had much disdain for the way they left their mark on the transport vehicles. They were unclean, unbathed – disgusting in every way she could think. There was a clear distinction between those who successfully served the empire and those who would be left behind when the judgment day came. It was that way for a reason. She had been among Lord Dread's chosen few. She would serve faithfully, she knew, because it was in her being to do so. It was her destiny.

Jennifer's mind kept returning to the conversation between Tobias and Lord Dread. She knew she should not have been listening, but she could also justify her eavesdropping in that she had been assigned to observe the doctor and the proceedings at Alaceda. She was supposed to be aware of all that happened and look for anomalies. The confrontation between the two highest-ranking figures in the Dread Empire certainly qualified as an unusual occurrence.

She slept restlessly that night. Her mind replayed the whole scenario over and over. Jennifer dissected each aspect of it, trying to piece together the context of the conversation. There was obviously a past between Lord Dread and Doctor Tobias, though Jennifer could not fathom how far back it went. He had said she had supplied test subjects in the past for her, and that gave Chase an idea. She got out of bed again and went to her terminal. Once again, Mercury was thrilled with the idea that it was time for socialization. It was on its hind legs, pawing at the glass of the container. Jennifer obliged it, putting it on her shoulder and letting it study with her.

Her ambition was reckless, she knew. If Doctor Tobias was monitoring communications to Volcania, then she was certainly logging Jennifer's activities at the console. She had the perfect excuse for the actions she was about to take. She would tell Tobias that she was getting a feel for the doctor's previous work and to help visualize a final product. After all, there was a certain style to the devices and technology that served Lord Dread and the New Order. There was a reason for the way things worked and functioned, and this new probe deserved nothing less than the finest the machine world had to offer. She took pride in the fact that her name would be attached to its history, though she had been taught that nothing was for her pride alone. Ultimately, everything was for the New Order. It truly was destiny.

Doctor Tobias's list of accomplishments was impressive, which to Jennifer was not even an accurate assessment of the inventions and innovations that crawled up her screen in green text. The doctor's work was listed chronologically. She began pulling up the files one by one. At first, the research was foundation-building. At a glance, each project was almost meaningless in the early years. One made a small communications device. Another was to implant it subcutaneous and have it intelligently interact with the human body. The simplicity of each was overshadowed by the perfection of each idea. As Jennifer read the details, she saw the legacy of the accomplishments in the world around her. It was astonishing to think she had been assigned to work with the woman who had pioneered so much in so little time.

Then came the larger projects, the ones that had changed the tide in bringing about the New Order. Doctor Tobias had begun to work on critical mass weapons, incorporating them into the current biomechanical technology that allowed Lord Dread's vision to come to fruition throughout the world. It paved the way for the will of the machines to take hold on the planet, for destiny to be fulfilled by eliminating most of what stood in its way. The whole study was a high-level view of what had brought Tobias into her current circumstances. Jennifer wanted to look deeper, to see what motivated the doctor's work.

She keyed up the biomechanical research library of the records and began sifting through each one. The records were meticulous, the work extraordinary. It had taken Tobias nearly twenty years to perfect some components. She had tested her work time and time again on human test subjects in an effort to find the flawless method in which to incorporate a new idea. The pattern was familiar to Jennifer. She was accustomed to seeing it in the probe lab. Doctor Tobias's research habits had not changed much. It was calculated and documented to the nth degree. Each step was planned with precision and executed as anticipated.

Jennifer disregarded mechanical projects and concentrated solely on the biomechanical mating of technology and flesh. It paralleled the work currently occurring in the probe lab. She was not surprised to find earlier attempts at the same type of project. When she delved into the files, she began seeing familiar names – Helene Tobias, Warren Rosen, Stuart Power, Lyman Taggart.

Lyman Taggart.

Her investigation veered in another direction as she looked to see what Lyman Taggart had accomplished in his early years. More than that, she wanted to see what the man who was now Lord Dread had come to be in power. Her disappointment mounted as her search returned negative results. It was as though his name had been wiped from the database almost entirely except for the few references that existed in Doctor Tobias's files. They had done much work together, until she became the head of her own lab and began spearheading her own projects. One of the most important was the U765 project that was now a standard lesson to all Dread Youth. The U765 was the critical mass weapon that had brought the Federation to its knees and allowed Lord Dread to assume his rightful place as ruler of the New Order. The estimates of its effectiveness varied, but the level of destruction brought about by two detonations was the elimination of nearly eighty-one percent of the Earth's population. The success of the weapon had assured Doctor Helene Tobias of immortality in the annals of history.

After that, she concentrated solely on biomechanical studies. Her work complimented the already effective biomech forces battling what remained of the resistance. She made them smarter and faster, able to analyze the unpredictable movements of the rebels and effectively eliminate them. Beyond that, she began the probe project to once and for all mate the human body to machine perfection.

Mercury tried to nestle under her collar, distracting Jennifer from the material on the screen. She extricated it and put it on the desk. She found a cracker and gave it to the rat, watching for a moment as its tiny teeth efficiently whittled the food.

Her attention turned back to the screen. Her real intent was to look at the prior projects that Lord Dread had spoken of in the lab. Those would give a good idea of what the final device would look like, how it would operate. One such project was the precursor to the latest probe project – the NP1A4. However, instead of replaying memories in the brain, the NP1A4 projected images into it, causing a hallucinatory state in the recipient. With it, interrogators were more than capable of inducing any images they saw fit to extract information from a captive. It was fairly new, having been completed only two years earlier, but its success rate was high. Not many could survive its power for long, no matter how hard they tried. It completely overwhelmed the brain and brought it into an artificial world that seemed so real, even the finest pharmaceuticals could not compete. The total control given to interrogators was a weapon, in and of itself. More information had been extracted with it than through more physical means of interrogation.

It had taken over two hundred subjects to complete the NP1A4 project. Most ended in fatalities. Autopsies were performed on each to determine where the research had gone wrong. She was familiar with the autopsy process, as well, having been privy to it five times when she was stationed at Volcania. It was part of her biological studies to dissect a human body to learn its anatomy. Again, the subjects were unclean rebels who had been euthanized for teaching purposes. Perhaps that was another exposure to them that made her stomach revolt in disgust. She had never particularly liked biological studies, but the Youth were forced to endure every class in order to graduate and become leaders in the New Order. She not only endured them, she excelled in them. It was her duty to perform at her peak, no matter the circumstances.

Once the autopsy was complete, the bodies were disposed of to an incinerator, run by earlier models of biomechs that controlled and managed refuse in Volcania. It was a constant operation, where anything from biological to inanimate material was burned and disposed of before it could become a problem. Though she had never seen the operation, itself, she was aware of the process in the event something accidentally was disposed of that should not have been. There was a timeframe for all material to be incinerated. If a mistake was discovered outside that timeframe, it was almost a certainty it was too late, for each load of refuse was tagged with tracking numbers that could be recalled. Even in garbage disposal, Lord Dread insisted on efficiency and perfection, and that was at every major outpost, including Alaceda. Even the hidden mountain had its own incinerator area. Otherwise, it would be overrun in no time with refuse, which would surely inhibit any progress in the ongoing projects.

Jennifer concentrated on the NP1A4 project again. She queued up a pictorial review of the test results. It was solid evidence that Helene Tobias was brilliant. The ability to confront the physiological mind was fascinating and completely hers, an extraordinary vision of what could be.

She drilled down into the file more, looking into the details of the project. It was all a very tidy package, but it was also immediately clear that Jennifer was eons behind Tobias in terms of innovation and vision. It was also, clear, though, that the doctor needed a scribe. Several of the fields in the autopsy dispositions were not filled in and lacked proper information to close out the file. Several fields, including the refuse processing number, were missing. It was uncharacteristic of someone as thorough as Doctor Tobias. However, Jennifer also considered the possibility that the missing information was trivial when compared to the volume of accomplishments in her career.

Chase continued reviewing past projects, seeing the successful integration of machined parts into human flesh. It was the genesis of the New Order, Lord Dread's final vision for the world. There were failures in Tobias's first attempts, which was to be expected when embarking on new ground. The work was conducted on a variety of subjects, of all ages, all kinds. That made complete sense, since the technology would have to be compatible with any human host it was put in without question. Over the course of two years, Tobias conducted the tests and meticulously documented her results, showing what worked and what did not. There were numerous failures, each combated in the next experiment until perfected. Lord Dread had said he had provided a large number of test subjects. It was no wonder why they had been required. The failures had been catastrophic, mangling and mutilating the subjects, sometimes beyond recognition, with implementations and devices. It mattered little, since they all ended up in the same place when success had finally been achieved.

Again, though, Jennifer saw the incompleteness of the administrative portion of the records. Knowing Doctor Tobias, though, Jennifer suspected that it was of little consequence to the woman. Her focus was always on the work, not on what pleased administrative types. She was consumed by the work, not being accountable to even the likes of Lord Dread.

Still, the incompleteness of the reports bothered Jennifer. It was something that should have been completed, simply because it was perfection to complete the job. She would have time in the morning before any work began to begin filling out the rest of the forms, a task that would be simple. She would just cross-reference the dates and the refuse order and assign the information to the records. Then, no one would look upon the records at a later time and think Doctor Tobias to be lacking in detail in any way.

Jennifer's eyes finally started to burn. It was late. She should have been sleeping hours earlier, but the material she had read was incredible. It renewed her respect for Doctor Tobias in that she understood why it had been such a problem when the cadaver she had expected that morning had not arrived. Though Jennifer was sure Lord Dread meant well, it had put the exacting procedures of Doctor Tobias off schedule. All Jennifer knew for sure was that the next morning was going to be more exciting as the last step in the probe testing would take place.

She slept soundly and was oddly vibrant and awake when the alarm sounded in the morning. She rose and prepared quickly for the day. With one last check on Mercury's food and water supplies, she quickly made her way back to the lab. Alaceda was moving with its usual activity among its residents, mostly utility workers who kept the main portions of the station in working order. Out of twenty-two residents of the station, only Chase and Doctor Tobias were permitted in the lab areas. The rest were relegated to operational tasks, all performing a needed function.

Doctor Tobias was sitting at her desk when Jennifer entered the lab in a flourish. Tobias looked up from a report, amused at the cadet's energy.

"Good morning," Tobias said.

"Good morning, Doctor," Jennifer said, approaching the desk. She stood at parade rest in front of it, finding it difficult to contain her excitement.

"My, aren't we full of energy today. Have you been snacking on Mercury's crackers?"

"I'm eager to test the probe insertion this morning," Jennifer admitted.

"Ah, yes," Tobias sighed. "Well, considering your Lord Dread hasn't screwed us up in our plans yet, I'd say we're on track to do this today. Shall we?"

Tobias stood and indicated Jennifer should go into the probe lab. The cadaver she had prepared the previous day was there and ready for implantation. The air seemed cooler in the lab, blowing more vigorously about the room than usual. The probe machine sat there, familiar and proud to Jennifer. She saw her work in it, having contributed her ideas to those of the greatest scientific mind in the empire. It had already been positioned at the cadaver's head, she presumed by Tobias. Subject thirteen's head had been shaved and prepared for the procedure.

The doctor sat down at the machine. "Take your place, cadet," she said, indicating the consoles where the progress would be produced in data streams for examination.

Jennifer sat down at her station and called up the insertion program. They had worked hard on it, perfecting the burrowing process into the brain tissue of the previous subject. Tobias had been pleased with the progress, which had been rapid and exciting. Jennifer worked well with Tobias, sharing her drive to attain results with accuracy. She imagined becoming a protégé of the doctor, though that would be presumptuous for a cadet. Nonetheless, attaining a goal was rewarded in the Youth. She could still hope and work toward her goal. If she did not attain it, she knew more rewards awaited her upon graduation.

"Run the insertion simulation," Tobias ordered.

Jennifer began the program. She watched as a computer analysis of the cadaver was made by laser measurement, mathematically producing the projected trajectory of the probe. Then, a scan of the cadaver's brain tissue was made, mapping each cell and marking them with an identifying code. Critical areas of the brain that controlled vital functions were outlined in red, indicating the danger zones during the process. The program indicated that it recognized them as opposed to where the memory centers resided in the neocortex, where the probe had been aimed. The angles were exacting and precise, producing a model of what cells would be damaged in the insertion process. Jennifer fed the information to Tobias for approval.

Tobias studied the results carefully. The minutes ticked by slowly as she examined every line, every bit of information that had been produced. Jennifer felt impatient, wanting to know if the first run was considered a success so that the second, more crucial step could be performed.

Finally, Tobias gave a small nod. "This looks good. Run it again, from the top."

Tobias moved the probe machine to a slightly different location, intentionally offsetting it from the original position. Jennifer initiated the program and watched it run. Again, the machine conducted its study, calculating and measuring, predicting the areas of damage and what would have to be replaced. The wait was interminable to Chase as she waited for the results. Finally, they completed. She showed them to Tobias.

Again, the doctor studied them visually, scanning the lines, looking for inconsistencies.

Tobias took a deep breath, revealing an uncharacteristic nervousness. "Run the comparison."

This was it. This was the moment of truth. Jennifer initiated the comparison algorithm. The main systems began comparing both sets of data, looking for any differences in data. If one difference were found, then it would not be considered a successful test. They would have to analyze and determine where the failure occurred and try to fix it as soon as possible.

Tobias stood next to Jennifer at the console and watched as the data was compared. Two streams scrolled side by side on the screens, each line turning bright green as a match was made. First, the individual cell identification comparison was conducted. It was the most crucial part, but they had confirmed that part of the process had been in working order days beforehand. Doctor Tobias had perfected that portion of the project. Thus, Jennifer had not really been too concerned about it. It still had to be done, though, to give a complete and accurate report of the project's success.

The first comparison completed. Then came Jennifer's portion. The next set of data began scrolling. The goal was for the analysis to identify the same cells that would be damaged in the insertion process and to duplicate them before obliterating them. Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched green line after green line scroll on the screen. Her mind counted up the percentage of success as the comparison continued.

Tobias's eyes were sharp as she, too, watched the data. Her shoulders were taut with stress, waiting for the results. Her breath was shallow as she read the scrolls, her eyes reflecting the lines that turned green at every success.

Finally, the comparison completed. The analysis showed one hundred percent compatibility in data, with no deviations. The two women stood there, silent, regarding their success.

True to form, Tobias was calm and direct. "Well done, cadet," she said.

Jennifer was speechless. Her excitement at their success had taken the words away to describe her pride.

"Time for the big show," Tobias said, stepping back over to the cadaver. Jennifer's role was finished for the moment.

Tobias left the machine in its last position and began the insertion protocol. The probe process began. Bone was drilled, soft tissue was encountered and pierced. It went as planned. There were no deviations in how the machine had been programmed. The probe's progress was tracked at the console, aimed at the neocortex and hitting its mark with precision. Excess brain tissue was cored and ejected into the machine for analysis. A coupling fastener circled down and secured the probe in place, burrowing into the skull.

Tobias called for another mapping of the existing brain with the probe in place. The scan began, tunneling its results to the main core for analysis. The goal was to see the same cells that had been earmarked by the initial two scans as the ones that had been destroyed to make room for the probe.

The console immediately began a comparison of the two dry runs and the actual test results. Tobias joined Jennifer again at the console to watch the results. At first, the analysis was sluggish as the main core set the parameters of the comparison and organized the data. Then the screen began to scroll.

Jennifer's breathing was shallow as they watched the results. One mistake would equal failure. She was not used to failing. She had gone over the program a hundred times, to the point she even dreamed about the sequences. Numbers danced in her unconscious head at night. She thought about them during mealtime and especially during work time. Now, it was all coming to life in front of her eyes, each line turning green with success as a triple redundant data match was concluded.

Tobias folded her arms in front of her, pulling at the edge of her robe to encase herself in warmth as she observed the results. Jennifer looked up to see tiny nods of approval as the doctor viewed the results. The experiment glowed a successful green again, line after line, cell after cell.

The comparison completed with bold letters of confirmation across the screen. Everything had acted as it was designed. A new day had dawned in the relationship between man and machine.

"Well done," Tobias said again. "Your Lord Dread will be happy as a clam, I suspect, when we tell him."

Jennifer hardly knew how to respond. Her adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. "When do we do a live test?"

"Very soon," Tobias said quietly. "Tomorrow, we'll receive our load of live subjects, and we'll proceed."

Jennifer could not contain her pride. "This is incredible."

"Feels good to succeed, doesn't it?" Tobias asked seriously.

"We've worked so hard on this. I didn't think I'd ever get a full night's sleep again."

"Well," Tobias said, "hard work reaps good rewards. Tonight, you'll be able to sleep soundly."

Jennifer looked around the lab. "What now?"

"For now," Tobias said, "we'll write the report and submit it for authorization to continue. Then, we'll inspect the holding area for the new test subjects when they arrive. I don't want anything to disrupt our process tomorrow."

For some reason, Jennifer had the nagging feeling Tobias was not as enthralled with their accomplishment as she should have been. Her words were carefully measured, and there was little excitement for what had just happened.

The cadet was curious. "Doctor?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes?"

Her bravery came forth. "Are you pleased with the results?"

Tobias smiled gently. "I'm pleased we were successful, yes. It's going to be a new day tomorrow."

Her bravery stayed, since Tobias had not reprimanded her for her personal question. "May I ask you something else?"

Tobias busied herself with securing the probe instrument. "We'll see. What's the question?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Lord Dread yesterday."

The doctor raised a brow. "Oh?"

"You kept calling him Lyman. Why?"

Tobias gave a snort. "Because 'pompous, arrogant ass' takes too long. Accurate, mind you," she added, "but time-consuming."

The chime to the probe lab rang. Jennifer looked at the security console. The stuttering mechanic from the hangar stood there, still in dirty coveralls, looking so closely into the lens of the security camera that his face completely filled the screen.

Unlike the moment of success in the project, a genuinely happy grin sailed acrossTobias's face. "Ah, right on time," she said fondly. "Open the door."

The door opened with a quiet whooshing sound. The mechanic waited tentatively until Tobias greeted him.

"Good morning, Ian," she said cheerfully.

He looked as though he was about to speak, but then he held his words and only nodded. Tobias walked toward him, abandoning the probe project as though it did not matter.

"Let's go to our spot, and we'll get started."

She led him out of the doorway and back toward her desk. She sat down and pulled an adjacent chair over for him. Jennifer stood in the doorway and watched the proceedings.

"How are things in the hangar?" Tobias asked, opening a drawer in the desk and beginning to rummage.

"F-fine," he answered, looking down at the floor as he spoke the broken word. He sat down lightly in the chair, his posture straight and disciplined, like a Youth cadet. He waited while she finished looking through the drawer.

"I'm glad to hear that." She straightened from her search. "Ah, here we are," she said, holding up a pair of ocular devices. Tobias leaned forward and placed them on Ian's eyes.

When his vision was blinded, she motioned for Jennifer to come closer and observe.

"I g-got m-most of the wo-work done on the sh-ship like you asked," Ian reported, not moving and letting Tobias adjust the devices.

"Very good," Doctor Tobias said, smiling. "Ian, do you know Youth Leader Chase?"

He lifted up one of the lenses and looked around until he brought Jennifer into view. "Hi!" he said cheerfully.

His exuberance was pleasant to Jennifer, despite his imperfections. "Hello, Ian."

"We're working to correct some of Ian's speech difficulties," Tobias explained. "This is a variation of the NP1A4. Are you familiar with that work?"

"Yes," Jennifer said. "I read about it last night, as a matter of fact."

"Well, Ian's been helping me tweak it a bit to convince the parts of his brain that are causing all the difficulties with his words to do something different. With any luck," she said, readjusting the device, "we'll have him talking in a blue streak in no time."

Jennifer watched as Doctor Tobias began working with the young man, having him name images as he saw them in the goggles. She would make precise adjustments, honing the settings until Ian sounded like an entirely different person. His speech became smooth and controlled, no longer staggered over simple words that impeded his ability to communicate. It was another stellar example of Doctor Tobias's brilliance in her work, despite the fact that it was being put to use on someone who would never be a part of the New Order.

The process was not long before Tobias decided she had enough information she needed.

"Ian," she said, "I understand you have to complete the maintenance on the cargo ship. Jennifer, here, is a burgeoning pilot. I'll bet she could help you."

Jennifer was not following. "Doctor?"

Tobias addressed Jennifer directly. "Our work in the lab is completed for today. The cargo ship needs maintenance and a qualified pilot to take it for a test run when completed. You're a qualified pilot, and Ian can complete his task for the day if you do the flight test."

"That would b-be gr-great!" Ian said with enthusiasm.

Tobias agreed wholeheartedly. She stood and proudly announced, "Then it's settled. Ian, Jennifer will be your pilot for today."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Again, thank you for bearing through these tough chapters. I promise you that they are significant and lead to bigger and better things, escpecially in explaining the nuances of RESSURECTION. Thanks for reading. As always, reviews of both sides are welcome! As is usual, nothing has been edited, so let me know if you find mistakes. Thanks!**

**Chapter 9**

Two dingy coverall legs protruded from underneath the cargo ship. Jennifer had changed into a flight suit she had procured from supply. Hers was an olive color as compared to Ian's unkempt gray work clothes. The fabric was wrinkled and stained, with several small tears near the knees. His hand darted out, blindly seeking a spanner that had rolled away from him.

"Here," Jennifer said, reaching down to grab it. She peered underneath the ship.

Her appearance startled Ian. He sat straight up and connected solidly with the ship's hull with his head. He rubbed at the injured spot and accepted the offered spanner without a word.

She got down lower to see where he was working. An access panel to the ship's drive control had been removed, and Ian had dismantled several layers of equipment in order to adjust the actual controls. A wave of nervousness flitted through her as she realized what he was doing.

"What's wrong with the drive?" she asked, crawling underneath the ship next to him.

Ian looked nervous, as though trying to organize what he wanted to say but knowing he was taking too much time to do it. "Nothing," he managed to say solidly.

"Then why open it up at all?" she pressed.

Again, he struggled. Finally, he picked up a data pad next to him and handed it to Jennifer. The order for routine maintenance was laid out on the screen. The cargo ship had been due for an overhaul, and Ian was fulfilling the order. Still, she was alarmed that he had been selected to do the work. His impediments were surely a sign that he was not fit to be touching ships in the least, especially not complex drive controls. Even she had to look at schematics when working with them from time to time, because it was critical that every part was reassembled in the correct order. Otherwise, a pilot would experience a catastrophic failure in flight controls and lose all ability to fly a ship, resulting in a crash.

She had learned early on from her training with the overunits that observation was a powerful tool in assessing a situation. It was not necessary to confront something in the early moments. It was better to wait and judge what was happening before acting upon it. That way, the lesson was driven home without damage to machine or personnel.

Jennifer watched as Ian returned to his work. The flight control required delicate precision. His hands were nimble, deftly adjusting and inspecting each component. He continued to dismantle the control, laying out the pieces in order on a cloth next to him.

She watched as he completely removed every part, tested them, and replaced them in order in the flight control panel. He did it without guidance of schematics or other sources. She used the data pad to call up the schematics and compared his work as he progressed. He did not miss a single step in the process. He completed the checklist without error, to her amazement.

Ian sealed the panel again without comment, securing the bolts and hiding the components safely underneath the metal cover. He slid out from under the ship and held out his hand to help her stand. She reluctantly accepted the offer. His hand was warm and strong, with rough skin from manual labor. She looked up at him and saw apprehension in his eyes.

"Is the inspection finished?" she asked, finding herself feeling quite authoritative and superior to him.

He looked away, breaking eye contact with her. "It . . .," he said, struggling. "It n-needs tested," he finally managed.

"Regulations state the technician flies with the pilot during the test flight to monitor the state of the repairs," she said, reciting the manual almost verbatim.

He nodded in affirmation, working up the courage to face her again.

She held out her hand toward the cockpit, inviting him to enter the vehicle first. He sat silently as she ran through the pre-flight checks. He did his own checks, his fingers flying over the input panels on in the co-pilot's seat. He plugged in the data pad to a port and began monitoring the ship's performance.

Jennifer lifted off the ground and turned the ship toward the bay doors. She kicked in the thrusters once they had cleared the entrance to Alaceda. She stole a glance at Ian and saw a look of wonderment and excitement in his face as his eyes read each line of data before him. It occurred to her that Ian liked to fly, too.

The sky was unusually clear as she broke through the haze of a decimated world. It would all change one day, she was sure. When machines ruled, it would all be rebuilt and made suitable for those who had been faithful to Lord Dread. When the machines took over, it would all be fixed. No more would they fear human destruction of the world. One leader would take them to the next echelon of existence and make all others obsolete.

She watched Ian as he analyzed the readings with lightning speed. Whereas she would have taken the time to read each line, he was absorbing the information and reacting to it faster than she could ever have hoped. He was enthralled with his work.

"How's it looking?" she asked finally.

The enjoyment he seemed to be having vanished and was replaced by apprehension at her query. He nodded at her to indicate all was well with the ship and what he had intended it to do during the test. He tried to concentrate on the data stream again, but it was clear she had broken his train of thought. Ian's shoulders tightened under her watch. He handed her the data pad for her approval.

Everything was perfect. In fact, it was running above standard. Even in the flight hangars at Volcania, it was rare to see such an achievement. But there the numbers were, exceeding operational expectations, and all due to his work. If she had not witnessed his maintenance procedures, she would not have believed it.

She handed the pad back to him and resumed her concentration on flying. Jennifer felt strangely in control of Ian, knowing she was superior to him socially. Intellectually, she was most likely superior, as well. Otherwise, she would not have been selected to assist Doctor Tobias. Still, there was a curiosity for her about Ian.

"Do I make you nervous, Ian?" she asked.

He nodded nervously, his voice remaining silent.

"Why?" she prodded, feeling an air of pride as she mimicked Doctor Tobias's tenacity for answers.

His eyes cast downward, embarrassed. "B-because you're pretty," he said quietly. His cheeks reddened at his confession. "Doctor T-Tobias usually takes me f-flying, but she's n-not as y-young."

Jennifer's skin prickled with his words. It was completely unexpected. Moreover, she had never heard some one say that to her in her entire life. Ian had taken her off guard. Her hand involuntarily pushed forward on the throttle of the ship in reaction. She quickly brought it under control, though her emotions were still shocked.

"I think we've tested the ship enough today," she said and began turning for Alaceda again.

The flight home seemed interminable. She was never so glad to touch down in the hangar and shut down the engines. Ian vanished out the door as soon as the ship was secure, eager to distance himself from her and his embarrassment. She wanted nothing to do with him, her anger at his audacity rising.

Jennifer felt it proper to file a complaint, and the highest authority available on the station was Doctor Tobias. When she found the doctor in the lab and informed her of the incident, Tobias let loose with a throaty laughter that Jennifer did not find amusing in any way.

Tobias was working at a computer at her desk and looked at Jennifer over the screen. Her hands rested on the keyboard, frozen mid-calculation. When her laughter was done, she became a little more serious.

"He has a crush on you," Tobias said plainly.

The term was foreign to Jennifer. "A what?"

"A crush," Tobias said again. "He finds you attractive."

"That's strictly against regulations," she said adamantly.

Tobias gave a small shake of her head. "Regulations have ill control over human emotions." She returned to entering calculations, disassociating herself from the fact. "It doesn't matter, anyway. He's scheduled for termination soon."

The revelation caught Jennifer off guard, a feeling she was beginning to loathe. "What?"

"He's imperfect, according to your Lord Dread's standards. He's earmarked for termination at the end of the month."

"On what grounds?" she demanded.

Tobias's face became harder with suppressed anger. "He has difficulty talking. Therefore, he is considered expendable. He's not as perfect as the rest of the youth like you."

"But you're working to correct that," she argued.

"It doesn't matter."

"But his skills are excellent. He's brilliant," she said, not understanding the logic. "I watched him today."

"It doesn't matter," Tobias said again. "He has a disability. That's all the empire sees when they look at him." She looked up at Jennifer with her eyes only. "He's imperfect and nothing more than temporary labor."

Tobias returned her attention to the screen, typing more notes and calculations. Jennifer stood there with no retort, no useful argument. Tobias made no sense. Of course Ian was not perfect, but he was useful to Lord Dread's mission, to the edict of the empire. He may have been lesser, but his ability to maintain ships and to keep the pilots flying was invaluable. Surely, there was a way to inform those in power that Ian was an asset and not a liability.

"It doesn't make sense," Jennifer said quietly.

"No, it doesn't," the doctor said. "But you have a job to do. You can't be concerned with such trivial things as Ian's fate. You're here for a purpose, and that is to assist me."

Jennifer sensed the immediate closure of the subject and honored it. "You're satisfied that we're ready for a live test?"

"The test subjects will arrive tomorrow. Everything has been inspected. I trust you're confident in your programming?"

"I'm confident in my program and the insertion process," she said.

"So you told your Lord Dread, which I'm glad you still believe, because we're going to see how right you are on the first live subject."

Jennifer felt excitement that they were finally proceeding to the real testing grounds. Then, her spirit plummeted when the doctor added one final word.

"Me."

Chase was not sure she had heard the doctor correctly. "You?"

Tobias continued entering data into the console. "I suggest," she said, "that you check your calculations one last time before we embark into the center of my most precious asset."

The doctor craned her neck, resetting vertebrae with a satisfying popping sound and stretching taut muscles. Her eyes never left the console. "Get some dinner and check your work again. We'll start at precisely oh-eight-hundred."

"But Doctor Tobias, the test subjects . . ."

"It's not up for discussion, cadet," she said sharply. "You have your orders. Dismissed."

Tobias did not look up at her again. She continued to enter calculations and notes rapidly into the console, ending the conversation.

Jennifer left the lab, shaken. Tobias's orders were insane. The purpose of live test subjects was to spare those who would later receive the probe from any undue complications. Now, she was suggesting that it be tested on the one person who should never have been put at risk. Lord Dread, she knew, would never approve of the procedure. She doubted the doctor had gotten the intended approval for the task. She was too valuable.

Chase's quarters seemed colder than usual when she entered. Her stomach was in no condition for food. Too much had happened in one day for her to force anything on it. An intellectual battle of confidence suddenly reared its ugly head in her mind as she sat on her bunk, contemplating the facts as she knew them. Yes, her program had proven effective, and yes, it was written to the best of her abilities. The problem was that she was being put the biggest test of her life, and it was with someone she had grown to respect academically. The program was going to irreparable damage if it was wrong in the slightest way.

She stood and went to the console in her quarters where it seemed she had spent a lifetime reading schematics and lines of code. Mercury stirred in its cage, aware that she was near in the darkness of the room. For the first time, she willingly brought it out and held it, feeling a strange comfort in its familiarity and non-judgmental ways. Jennifer settled back and let Mercury roam her shoulder, feeling is warmth settle into the taut muscles of her clavicle.

Jennifer pulled up her notes again on the console and began from the beginning, reexamining every turn, every adjustment that was made. There were hundreds of calculations to examine, and she started from the beginning.

Her train of study was interrupted by an incoming message. Before she even looked to identify the sender, she knew it would be Lord Dread seeking an update. Her hand delayed making the connection as her mind raced through everything he might ask her. No matter how hard she tried, she knew she would not be able to answer his questions and protect Doctor Tobias in the process. He was their lord, their commander. It was her duty to answer his questions, to not question his authority. The empire and the mission of the New Order depended on her flow of information. The contradiction raged in her mind, though. Images of Ian and his work flashed in her mind, with underlying tones of unfairness and how unwise it was that he was scheduled for termination.

She was left with no other option but to establish the link. She had logged in to the console, and he knew she was there. Jennifer put Mercury back in its box and returned to her seat, taking a moment to wrangle her composure.

Her hand opened the link.

"My lord," she said, as his face filled the screen.

"Report," he demanded.

"Doctor Tobias is ready to begin testing a live subject in the morning."

"Good, good," he said, pleased. "Everything is in order, I trust?"

She was lying to him, if only by omission. "To the best of my abilities, yes, my lord."

She eyed his hardware closely for the first time, daring to fully analyze the spectacle transmitted to her console. He was already partially a machine, having utilized what she could ascertain was Doctor Tobias's work, though she had no way to be sure.

"I would not have given you this assignment if I doubted your abilities, Youth Leader Chase. Your contributions to the New Order have been invaluable."

"Thank you, my lord," she said, flustered at the compliment, though she was unsure if he meant is as one. The line of demarcation between his authority and power and her inadequacies rang loudly in her mind.

"You have been tasked to protect the interests of my empire. I expect you to report any undue findings in your work with Doctor Tobias." He paused, scaring her. "Have you found any yet?"

Jennifer felt a clammy film cover her skin at the question. In one respect, she had found plenty, in her opinion. Her apparent affection and care for even the cadavers, and especially the early misdirected live subject had been a contradiction, though she had seen Doctor Tobias fulfilling every request made of her of the project. The probe was going to be tested, as he wanted, on a live subject.

"Only administrative errors, my lord. There is no evidence of tampering in her past work."

Lord Dread gave a slight roll of his visible eye. "To be expected," he answered, accepting her description, much to her relief.

It passed through her mind that he had not asked a direct question about the identity of the live subjects for the next morning's tests. In her considerations, he had no way of knowing that she knew Doctor Tobias would be the object of fire. She was sure of that, or else he would have brought it out immediately, unleashing his anger on her at the news.

"I'll expect a full report from you following the test tomorrow," he said.

She sensed his conclusion of the conversation and took great relief in it. He had cornered her into a lie, outright or omission.

"As you wish, my lord," she said in kind.

The transmission ended abruptly, without the opportunity for her to add to the reply. She was left with a blank screen with the symbol of the empire emblazoned upon it. Its red hue glowed on her face, where it reflected off the sheen of her nervous skin. Red seemed to fill the room and envelop her. She felt as though she were drowning in its color, all the pressures of her assignment suddenly ripping through every fiber of her body with a painful stab. Jennifer pushed it away, trying to rationalize that she would never have been assigned to the project if not for her loyalty to the empire and Lord Dread's vision. She had been selected above all others available, and she had a duty.

Jennifer retrieved Mercury from its cage and brought it back to her shoulder. Again, she felt herself calming at its touch, its contact with her bare skin. Her heart pounded with what she admitted were lies to the highest ranking person in the chain of command of the empire. She had not told the truth, that Doctor Tobias was about to break protocol and place herself at risk. The contradiction came in that someone would have to prove that Jennifer knew of the plan in the first place. She felt a curious urge to protect the doctor, a notion she could not rationalize given her mission. She was a Youth Leader, in a position to lead others by example. She had seen others meet the ultimate punishment for failure. Now, she found herself in a precarious balance between truth and the obligation to protect someone she respected.

Her discipline drove forth and came to the fore of her mind. She called up the insertion program again, bent on finding any anomalies that might jeopardize the doctor. Their research had been extensive. It seemed an insurmountable task to examine each and every change, but she vowed to do it. It was a matter of life and death. Specifically, if she was wrong, Doctor Tobias could effectively become a non-functioning but breathing piece of flesh, no longer of any use to Lord Dread or his vision. Jennifer had always been confident in her studies, learning every lesson to the nth degree, knowing every inconsequential detail in the event someone would ask. She had tailored her life to mimic the perfection of a machine. Some nights, she imagined the organs in her body to be not of flesh but of perfectly harmonized gears and motors, algorithms and logic, working in perfect harmony to keep her moving and functioning to the height of her abilities. She had even dreamed that she had crossed over into the promised perfection of machine intelligence, where mathematics and logic ruled and the dangerous idea of emotion was crushed to oblivion. There was perfection. There, she traversed the gap between her humanoid limitations into the unequalled world of logic, where calculations were dogma and doctrine.

How Doctor Tobias had changed all that!

It boggled Jennifer's mind to know she had come to a crossroads in her thinking. She felt herself unprepared to deal with such dilemmas. There was a reason Lord Dread's vision of a machine world was so predominant. It was destiny. It was meant to be. Doctor Tobias, though, presented a contradiction to that notion. So did Ian. Jennifer tried to fathom it all, but it was all cluttered, like an equation missing a vital variable. Even Mercury presented a problem. She had grown fond of its touch, its security in the hours when she was alone. The trappings of its company caused feelings to surface she had never known. It was a rodent, historically known to bring disease and death. Rats had been known to bring death to millions by their very existence, yet she allowed herself to take comfort in the warmth of one. She felt herself taking a buried liking to Ian's admission of his perception of her, making him akin to one of the petulance of human existence.

Jennifer considered keeping Mercury in its cage in order to concentrate on her review of the data, but something inside her refused. The rat had been there in her most pivotal moments of research. She felt it an omen, a talisman of her work and its progress. She retrieved it, finding solitude and constancy again in its touch. She called up the data once more and began sifting through it, line after line, looking for any mistakes she may have overlooked the first time.

Everything was in order. She looked at the clock on the console, seeing that the night had passed in an instant. Three hours remained until the live test. The sun, though barely visible, would be casting its first rays of energy through the haze outside Alaceda. She was at the crux of the changes in the program. It was at that point in the code that her most significant advances had been made with Doctor Tobias. Her senses sharpened at the turn. The data scrolling across the screen was where she had made the most minute of adjustments to ensure every cell had been accounted for and every angle of approach upon insertion could be repeated without flaw. She slowed the data stream, analyzing each character and equation, recalculating each micron of progress into brain tissue until the probe reached the neocortex.

Chase was tired. Her brain was firing on adrenaline, a painful mix of will and the weakness of the body's need for sleep. Her skin crackled with electrical impulses meant to signify she had stressed it beyond its tolerances. Her eyes burned with exhaustion and overuse, sometimes glossing over data until she forced herself to recover and reexamine it. More than once, she felt herself doze, reiterating the same line numerous times until she reasserted her mission in her mind and awakened to the consequences if she failed.

The fallibility of her work was too much to bear. She decided on a different approach to ensure her success. She pulled up a previous line of research in order to double check her final equations, with the assumption that previous failures would highlight why the current algorithms were correct or incorrect.

She split the screen views to compare her work, side by side. The initial research was consistent. Doctor Tobias had stated the mission, and Jennifer's work had accomplished the task. Then came the lengthier, more complicated work. She had studied every aspect of the project, knowing what had been done and what had resulted. It had been drilled into her mind on a nightly basis. She dreamt of the changes, sometimes waking in fear that she had missed something, which only spurned her drive to perfect her approach. She imagined herself in a position to receive such a gift of omnipotent knowledge as only the machines could give.

Her foggy mind barely registered the blinking red lines of data, signifying the contradiction in record. Something had changed. Something or someone had altered the best-laid plan of the New Order. Jennifer was so tired that she had almost missed it. Her mind had wandered into a world of reverie in the waning small hours of the morning. The data presented itself in blaring red letters of comparison for quite a few minutes in her estimation before she caught it. Only the incessant chiming of the waking alarm brought her to her senses enough to realize something was terribly wrong.

She was startled back to the present with the new information, alert and alarmed. She investigated the anomaly, realizing it should not be there, for it was not there before the other nights she had dissected the data so earnestly. The change occurred in a portion of the data that had been accepted as fact, except that it was at a point that was crucial to the project.

Everything was wrong. The equations had been altered.

Jennifer was fully awake now, delving into the changes. She tore them apart, trying to find the source of the alteration. Everything was masked, a sign of corruption. Someone had infiltrated the database and had sabotaged the very fundamentals of the project. She found it hard to breathe, her anxiety rising.

She looked at the clock. There was still time. She had twenty minutes before Doctor Tobias would begin the project.

Without changing, without regard for her appearance or what regulations stated she should do each and every morning, she literally tossed Mercury into its cage and bolted for the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: It occurred to me that there were existing scripts for Season 2 floating around that suggested other characters would be introduced and that Captain Power and his team would relocated and regroup at the Passages. Well, my apologies if I am straying from that, but the second season was never filmed, and I'm taking my own route. If you're enjoying it, wonderful! If you're feeling a little put out by my not following the unfilmed second season scripts, this is my take on it. That's not to say Power and his team won't get back to the Passages, but that's another story all together. :)**

**Chapter 10**

Jennifer sprinted down the hall, knocking both human and machine workers out of the way as she ran headlong toward the lab. Her calf muscles burned as she pushed her body to the limit in an effort to get to Tobias in time.

She turned a sharp corner toward the lab and had to stop as the door slid open slowly. As soon as she could squeeze through, she slipped inside only to find the room empty. Jennifer immediately looked to the probe lab, seeing the door sealed and secured. She ran to it and tried her access but was denied entrance. The normally green light that would have permitted her to enter was red and locked.

Jennifer pounded on the door in desperation, calling out Tobias's name. There was no response.

She went to the security console and pulled up the video feed to the inside of the probe lab. She was shocked to see Ian standing at the head of the gurney where Tobias lay, pulling the probe machine in position.

She went back to the door and began pounding again.

"Ian!" she yelled through the bulkhead. "Let me in, please!"

She looked back at the security console and knew he had heard her plea. Tobias said something to him that kept him in place.

"Ian! Doctor Tobias!" she said, pounding again, "you have to stop! The program has been corrupted!"

Ian did not stop. He continued to assist Doctor Tobias per silent orders.

Jennifer pounded even harder. "Ian, if you run that program, it'll kill her! You have to stop! Ian!" she yelled, practically screaming. In her desperation, she threw her shoulder into the door only to stopped cold and hard.

She looked around the lab, trying to find anything that would get her inside the probe lab, but it had been designed to be impermeable. It had an independent power source and was completely sealed and self-sufficient. All she could do was pound on the door until her fists ached. She was sure both Ian and Doctor Tobias could hear her pleas, which confounded her. She ran back to the security console and broke in over the lab's paging system.

"Doctor Tobias, I'm begging you – please stop!" she said into it. "It's all wrong! The program is wrong!"

She returned to the door, pounding again. Jennifer saw her future, or what was left of it, flash before her eyes. She could see being held accountable for the death of the empire's most brilliant researcher. There was more to it, a set of feelings she found frightening. She had never been afraid in her life. Nervous, perhaps, but never desperate and afraid, not like that.

She pressed her head against the cold metal, her plea quiet now, defeated. "Why don't you open the door?"

Just when she thought all hope was lost, she heard the inner locking mechanism's tumblers turn. The door opened. Ian stood on the other side, looking terrified and upset. She pushed past him and went to the gurney where Tobias lay underneath the probe machine. Her head was strapped down, metal bands holding it securely in place. The probe hovered above her, ready to begin the insertion process as soon as someone activated it.

Jennifer quickly pushed the machine out of the way, ensuring it would make no contact with Tobias.

Tobias looked up at her with straining eyes, their heads juxtaposed.

"This had better be good," Tobias admonished.

Jennifer worked to control her breathing. "The program is wrong. It's been sabotaged," she quickly explained.

Tobias was skeptical. "In less than twenty-four hours?"

Jennifer rounded the bed to fully face Tobias. "I don't know how or who, but yes, it's been corrupted." She reached out to unfasten the restraints holding the doctor's head and hands.

Tobias sat up and rubbed at her wrists. "Show me."

The screens at the console displayed the discrepancy when Jennifer called up the program. That was when Tobias turned to Ian.

"Ian, why don't you give us a moment?"

He looked bewildered at the whole spectacle. She gave him a reassuring nod. He lifted his hand slightly in a wave and showed himself from the room.

Tobias sat down heavily in a chair at the console. She scrolled through the program, watching line after line of corrupted code scroll up on the screen.

"Who do you think did this?" she asked Jennifer.

"It could only be rebels," Jennifer answered confidently. "They're the only ones who could benefit from such a thing."

"Oh?" Tobias mused. "No one else? Not even within the walls of the empire?"

Jennifer was stunned at the accusation. "That would be treason!"

"Treason, yes, but I was aiming a little more specifically than that – say like taking me out of the picture . . . or maybe even you, through conspiracy. Who have you been angering lately?" she dared.

"No one!" Jennifer swore. "I'm loyal to Lord Dread. You know that."

"Yes," Tobias said, sounding tired. "I know." She reached into the pocket of her robes. "Here," she said. She tossed Jennifer a data stick. "Double check this copy and make sure it's in working order. I'm going to get a snack."

Jennifer caught the stick in midair with ease. She was stunned. "What?"

"I make incremental copies as I work. That stick should have a working version. Compare it and make sure it's good."

With that, the doctor stood and strode out of the room, leaving Jennifer alone with the data console and a working copy of several weeks' worth of her life. She inserted the data stick into the console and began comparing the data as ordered, but no order was required. Her curiosity was raging, wanting to know what happened and why. Someone had tampered with her work, and there were currently no suspects as to who had done the deed. The thought that it was the work of rebels infuriated her. The other possibility that it was a loyalist was more infuriating and even frightening. That indicated destabilization from within, which was something that could not be permitted.

The data began scrolling. As Tobias had promised, the copy was good when compared to the benchmarks Jennifer had used for comparison during the night. Her mind began dodging through the data, looking for inconsistencies and errors but finding none. Everything was as it should be. The program was perfect again, with no errors, no weaknesses. It was as strong as Lord Dread, himself.

She heard Tobias step up behind her. Then she felt the doctor's strong hand on her wrist, pinning the radial pulse. Jennifer was put out by it, not liking to be touched without warning.

"Relax," Tobias said, sensing Jennifer's discomfort. "Your heart is still racing." She looked Jennifer over carefully. "And still diaphoretic. Interesting."

Only when Tobias mentioned it did Jennifer realize sweat had glazed her skin, even in the cool air of the probe lab.

"I find sabotage hardly interesting, Doctor," Jennifer said, perturbed.

"You always get this way when someone tries to break one of your toys?"

"How can you be joking at a time like this? The program has been corrupted!"

"So?"

"It could have killed you!" Jennifer nearly shouted, exasperated.

"And that matters to you because . . . ?" Tobias asked, pushing the point.

Jennifer felt herself being cornered, something she swore she would not allow Tobias to do to her with any measure of success. "I'm not going to debate this with you, Doctor."

"Oh, you better debate this, sweetheart," Tobias warned, "because there are a lot of questions that need answered. For example, how do I know you didn't corrupt it yourself and have second thoughts at the last moment?"

"That's absurd!" Jennifer protested.

"Is it? Prove it."

Jennifer backed down slightly, conceding the answer. "I can't. Even if I tried, whoever was good enough to infiltrate the system's security protocols was good enough to cover the evidence or even implicate someone who was innocent." It was her turn to interrogate Tobias. "Do you suspect me?"

"Judging from your reaction, I think we can safely rule you out as a suspect for the moment. But that's not what concerns me."

"And what does?"

"The fact that you're so upset that something catastrophic may have occurred had you not gotten here in time. I want to know why that got you so worked up."

Jennifer was not sure what Tobias wanted. "You're a valuable member of Lord Dread's chosen," she answered safely. "It would have been a great loss if you had been exposed to a fatal program."

"As valuable as Ian?" The question was like an ice dagger, slicing and cold.

"Ian? What does he have to do with it?"

"Is my life more valuable than Ian's?" asked plainly.

"Of course it is," Jennifer said immediately.

Tobias gave a perplexed look. "You told me he was brilliant, despite the fact that he can't talk normally. That doesn't make sense."

"You've proven your worth to the empire and Lord Dread already. Ian hasn't."

"And what if he just hasn't had the chance? What if the answers to the greatest questions in this world lurk in his head and are just having difficulty in being expressed by him?"

Jennifer had no answer. Tobias had cornered her quite thoroughly with the thought. She felt herself physically shrinking away from the doctor in retreat.

"Do the math, Jennifer," Tobias said gently. "Just like you compared equations last night to determine the program had been altered, you have to do the math about the more important things in your life. When something doesn't add up, then the equation is wrong and you must seek the right answer."

They eyed each other intently. Jennifer felt the chill of Tobias's words and for the first time felt confident that the doctor was not as profoundly loyal to the precepts of Lord Dread's empire as she should have been. There had been hints and subtle evidence all along, but she had not been willing to believe in Lord Dread's assignment to watch so closely for signs of treason. And it _was_ treason to undermine the very lessons taught in the empire. Uniform loyalty was required from all members of the future's perfect society, even from its most esteemed members and minds. He had tasked Jennifer to find such anomalies, and she was determined she would tell him everything she had seen thus far without reservation the next time he contacted her for a report. Better yet, she might make her own effort to contact him with the information.

"I know my lessons, Doctor Tobias. I've been taught well," she said more sharply than she had ever spoken to a superior in her life.

"The ones you need to learn are not found in any text." Then Tobias corrected herself. "At least not anymore. But then, the times change, don't they?"

Jennifer did not back down from her stoic stance. "Yes, they do. So does technology."

"Well," Tobias said with finality, "that certainly is true. So, I suppose it's best we get on with our work today. Ian?" she called to the outer room.

Ian appeared seconds later, waiting at the threshold. Tobias smiled at him. There was something about him that made the doctor, for lack of a better word, pleased. She was uncommonly kind to him, even when there was no need in Jennifer's opinion. He was a worker, yet she treated him like a contemporary.

"We're ready to run the program," Tobias said to him. "Cadet Chase has the correct information now, if you're ready."

Tobias shoved a data pad at Chase. "Here, read this. It's the medical protocol Ian will be following during all this. I suggest you quickly familiarize yourself with it."

Ever conservative in his speech, Ian nodded and entered the room. He stopped at Tobias's side and held out his hand. She took it and let him help her back onto the gurney. Then he began repositioning the probe unit, taking care to align it with her head. Finally, he secured Tobias with the head brace, ensuring her skull would remain stationary throughout the process.

"For the record," Tobias called out, looking up at the ceiling because she had no other options, "Ian will be monitoring my physiology during all this. He knows what to do if anything goes wrong. Don't get in his way, and that's an order," she said emphatically.

Ian cast a furtive, embarrassed glance at Jennifer, which seemed to inflame the sentiment expressed by Tobias to the cadet. However, the explicit order had been issued. If it had not been a direct order, she would have been inclined to argue and perhaps even override the doctor's wishes with complete justification, because one of the greatest scientific minds the world had ever known warranted more care than could be provided by someone who could not even speak. Wishes were one thing. Direct orders were another, and Jennifer was exceptional about following orders.

Jennifer sat down at the console and slid through the program data one last time to ensure the comparison was correct and that nothing would jeopardize the inaugural run of the probe project on a living being. Everything was as it should have been, with no changes, no intrusions to suggest tampering. It was as safe as it could possibly be, given the unknowns of Tobias's brainchild.

"I'm prepared to initiate the program," Jennifer announced.

She heard Tobias take a deep breath, which caused her to steal a look at the doctor. There was a change in the woman's face, a betrayal of the doctor's nervousness. It was a departure from the normally controlled scientist for whom each step was calculated, each word measured.

Ian's hand went to Tobias's shoulder. She reached up and covered his hand, giving it a small squeeze. They gazed at one another. He smiled at her and nodded, indicating he was as ready as she had asked him to be in the face of the next evolution of man and machine. Jennifer could not decipher the meaning between them. It was something unspoken, just as silent as Ian's nature, yet it looked like thousands of words passed between them. He had known Tobias longer than Jennifer had, and it was acceptable to think he was more attached to her than he should have been, finding her a sort of surrogate mother to empathize with his verbal plight. She had taken pity on him, and it was a typical sign of human weakness to latch on to and become dependent on surrogates.

He reached across Tobias and pulled up a strap across her torso and securing to the side of the gurney, taking a moment to rebind her wrists as they were when Jennifer had first entered the room. Then he did the same with one across her legs. Her arms were completely trapped, her body immobilized. Ian began attaching monitoring devices to Tobias. The console next to Jennifer lit up with vital readings of heartbeat and respiration. She was surprised to see that the doctor's pulse elevated. The program had been completely successful in the test runs on cadavers. There was no reason for worry. If anything, the step Tobias was about to take should have been considered an honor.

He picked up a small black device from the instrument tray and brought it to Tobias's neck. There was a quiet sucking sound as it clamped on to her skin. Jennifer had never seen anything like it, even in her work all those weeks with Tobias. Ian made an adjustment and picked up a tiny vial. He inserted the vial into the device. Almost instantly, Tobias's eyes seemed to glass over and lose their focus. Her shoulders relaxed, though Jennifer had not realized they were so tense, except maybe in the hangar when the wrong package was delivered.

Despite the obvious problem that Ian was overseeing the doctor's health during the procedure, Jennifer was disturbed that no other high-ranking scientist was involved in the process. Even Jennifer knew she, herself, was sorely under qualified to monitor complex brain functions life support systems in the wake of a monumental experiment. They were in uncharted territory, on the precipice of a new level of consciousness, of a whole new existence. Ian, she was certain, was not qualified to administer medical help to Tobias should something go awry.

Tobias breathed deeply, letting it out quickly. She strained to look at Jennifer with an immobile head.

"Let's begin," she said thickly, the anesthetic taking hold.

It was the moment of truth they had been working toward for weeks. Jennifer initiated the program. Ian stepped away from the probe machine, watching it as the point moved ever closer to the doctor's head. Its tip touched the skin of her scalp and stopped. Data began flowing across the console screens, calculating and measuring. It checked itself twice, scanning and plotting its intended course through Tobias's skin and skull. The program was proceeding as design, flawless and perfect.

The console signaled the calculations were complete and that everything was synchronized. Jennifer turned to Tobias. She felt a serious apprehension that was not there moments earlier as the realization of the next step in the process hit the young cadet. Images of the data corruptions red letters flashed in her mind in quick succession. For the briefest of moments, every instinct told her to abruptly halt the test until more investigation could be done into the tampering, but they were behind schedule. Her logic screamed that Tobias would not have moved forward on the test unless the data was infallible. After all, there was brain tissue at stake.

Jennifer concentrated on the data stream again while Ian examined the biological readouts on the console closest to him. Tobias remained unusually silent, which seemed fortunate to Jennifer. The last thing that was needed was distractions, and Tobias probably knew that better than anyone. It occurred to Jennifer that prisoners being volunteered for implantation would require sedation, lest their heads move and create havoc with the probe. Tobias did not require any such treatment. She was awake and stoically awaiting a foreign object to be inserted into the most crucial organ in her body.

"All readings are nominal, Doctor," Jennifer reported.

Again, Tobias took a deep breath and let it out in a quick huff, readying herself. "Proceed," she said.

Jennifer initiated the insertion sequence.

She saw the grimace on Doctor Tobias's face, though her head remained completely still due to the braces. It did not appear as though she was in pain. It looked more like she realized she was on the receiving end of a process that looked quite abnormal and certainly dangerous. Jennifer could only imagine the sensations as the probe began piercing flesh and bone on its way to a final destination.

Tobias's body suddenly tensed as the probe began its forward progress. Her eyes clamped shut, blocking out everything around her. She looked to be in pain.

"Ian?" Jennifer said softly, becoming concerned.

Tobias's eyes screwed shut even tighter as the probe began to make progress past the barrier of bone in her skull. It poked through, according to the console, and began piercing the thin membrane around the brain. Even the squinting action, something Jennifer had not anticipated, did not cause the program to falter. It had been written with contingencies in mind, and the unexpected grimace Tobias was displaying was just one of those unanticipated events for which the program compensated, keeping its aim and meeting each benchmark it was supposed to conquer on its way to empire destiny.

Tiny flashes of light pulsed at the end of the probe as it bit through bone in a slow, sure fashion. It was the first time she had taken time to observe the probe as it proceeded on the consoles through the video feed. Normally, she was concerned with data, but she took a moment to actually look at the whole process as it was happening. It bore down, creating a cylindrical hole until it finally reached the inner edge of bone. Then it slowed its process as it finally broke the barrier, stopping just short of the delicate membrane that encased Tobias's brain.

Tobias flinched at the completion of the step, drawing concern most from Ian. Jennifer could see by the data that everything was proceeding normally. Ian, though, was right there, hovering about Tobias, just as the doctor would him if the situation were reversed. The anxiety Jennifer expected him to display was not there. Instead, he was measured in his movements, deliberate in caring for Tobias and reassuring her during the process. He adjusted the medication in the small device, further relaxing the doctor and easing her distress.

Jennifer announced to Ian she was ready to begin the crucial part of the process. "Are you ready?" she asked.

Ian shot her a look that was one of a man who disapproved of the entire process. His concern for Tobias was genuine, and Jennifer knew that it well surpassed any affinity she had developed for her in the short time they had been working together. Ian's jaw was tight with stress, and there was a touch of anger in his eyes at the whole situation that seemed to age him ten years or more. To Jennifer, though, his anger was inconsequential, and she could still see that part of him that consistently malfunctioned in the regular world. His emotions and imperfections did not in any way factor into the overall mission of the Lord Dread's empire and the vision that would bring it about so soon.

Tobias seemed to have fallen completely asleep, although Jennifer was not sure if that was the original intent of the sedative. Perhaps Ian had made that decision. There was mention of it in the medical protocol Jennifer had skimmed just before the start of the procedure, but there was nothing specific about being awake or asleep that she could remember.

"Y-you don't have to d-do this," Ian said suddenly to Jennifer.

"What?"

"Don't," he said hard.

"And lie to her, right? Let her wake up and think something went wrong and we had to abort?"

Ian looked at her as though she were the idiot. "Yes!"

Jennifer felt her duty rush forth in words. Her authority blossomed as it was designed to do. "This is part of Lord Dread's plan for a new empire, Ian. Doctor Tobias never expressed any doubts about this process or the risks. If you refuse to follow through with your orders, I'll have you removed from the lab and taken into custody. The choice is yours."

She sounded threatening even in her own ears, but she felt empowered by it. She was taking command as she saw was needed. It was what she had been trained to do, and Ian was suggesting in all seriousness that she disregard duty and direct orders. It was inconceivable.

Tobias did not stir, completely sedated and unaware of the battle ensuing around her. Jennifer looked at the console to ensure that Ian had not done anything to alter the doctor's state of consciousness. It remained steady and unchanged, exactly as Tobias had prescribed on the data pad. Everything was in order and ready for them all to cross the barrier that kept the human body from fully mating with intelligent machine.

"We're proceeding," Jennifer said stonily.

With that, she initiated the rest of the program.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: As usual, hot of the presses and completely unedited. I will eventually fix things as I find them. And as always, thank you for reading!**

**Chapter 11**

The coupling spiraled downward and secured itself in the doctor's skull. Almost immediately, the console began spewing data that confirmed it was on track and ready to proceed, its readings matching the test runs perfectly. The probe rod destined for the center of Tobias's brain slid forward, pristine and sleek. It disappeared into the artificial portal that had been drilled just moments before, just above the forehead.

Jennifer watched, hardly breathing, as the data continued to flow on her console. The insertion process was slow and deliberate. The main processor contemplated every nuance of the procedure before actually completing it. Every micron of progress was recorded, and it was all going according to plan. There were no errors in what was quickly becoming a historical moment in biomechanical evolution. Helene Tobias was preparing to cross the boundary that had been only danced around for almost two hundred years. She was putting herself in a position to finally bridge the gap between cyberspace and the limitations of the human body.

If only Ian would leave the room.

He stood there, looking as though he might explode any minute. The fear in his eyes made him look weak and only illustrated more clearly why he was relegated to fixing ships and not taking a more active role in bringing about the New Order and Lord Dread's vision. His curly blonde hair was the only feature about him that had merit. Most of the Dread Youth she knew were blonde, though some of the most powerful overunits she had ever met were darker.

The console displayed its progress in pushing the probe to its final destination. Each percentage point was painful and slow, but patience was necessary on a live subject. Speed would come later. Cadavers had presented a number of possibilities, and the variation in the length of time it took to complete the process was one of them. Jennifer had worked to shorten the process time, and she had been quite successful, but she was now performing the process on one of the greatest scientific minds in history, despite the utter insanity of it. It should have been one of the prisoners that arrived that morning. Instead, Tobias had put herself into that precarious position with every intent of being the first to experience the insertion process. This test subject deserved the utmost care, and speed was certainly not a factor. Still, Jennifer's heart picked up its pace when the process neared the last two percentage points toward completion.

Tobias was still unconscious, a state wisely induced. Jennifer had never seen the doctor sleeping – had not even witnessed so much as a yawn in the time they had worked together. It had not fully occurred to Jennifer that there was the possibility something could go wrong and Tobias would not awaken until she remembered that the program had been corrupted. In the last moments, before it was too late, she realized in desperation that the best work of her life had been infiltrated and ruined. What frightened her was that the focus of her education had always been in mechanical research, learning how machines functioned and how to make them better. Now, she was learning in stuttering leaps how biology could work alongside a machine, how the two could be integrated. Her lack of knowledge in the biological area made her unsure at times. It was exacerbated by Ian's apparent skills in the same area. For that, her anger and frustration contracted and distracted her from her tasks.

With just two percentage points to completion, Jennifer turned her complete attention to the data console, pushing away her thoughts and concentrating solely on the final steps of the procedure. The program was running perfectly, much to her satisfaction. She envisioned herself a role model for future Youth who wished to serve Lord Dread to the fullest. She had put forth her best effort, and it was paying off with just one percentage point to completion.

Before she realized it, the process was done. Tobias lay on the gurney, silent and unmoving. The probe machine pulled away from her, revealing a perfectly aligned and secured data rod. It had all worked, just as the doctor and Jennifer had designed. The only question remaining was if the probe would work on human physiology. Jennifer had only glimpsed some of the plans Tobias had in place for testing the connection between the brain and a machine. Jennifer would have read everything available, except Tobias had kept it locked away, saying it would all be revealed when the time was right. As frustrating as it was, Jennifer did not question Tobias's reasons for not showing the data. It would have been looking too far ahead and might have distracted the concentration in getting past the first obstacle of surgical implantation without human intervention.

Ian surreptitiously reached down and check Tobias's pulse in her wrist. He raised no alarm, which was proof enough that the console information was correct. Doctor Tobias was breathing and in no immediate danger. She was still sedated and would remain that way until manually brought to consciousness per the protocol.

"Insertion is complete," Jennifer reported to Ian. "Everything looks normal."

Ian glared at her, offended at her simplistic summary of process results. He said nothing in response, though.

"We're moving on to the next step. Wake her up," Jennifer commanded.

Ian complied. He referred to the protocol and administered a localized anesthetic to the insertion point. He emptied the injector under the scalp in several locations. Tobias has specifically requested it be done before she was awakened. Jennifer could only surmise that it would lessen the pain of the incision and hole that had been made.

When Ian finished, he looked to Jennifer. "Now?"

"Do it," Jennifer said confidently. She was eager to see the results of the experiment.

Ian inserted new medication vials into the device on Tobias's neck. Two minutes passed before the doctor began to stir, as Ian eased her from her induced sleep. Jennifer stood at the side of the bed, anxious to see that Tobias was cognizant and functioning properly.

Her eyes finally opened, focusing first on Ian and then on Jennifer. She said nothing, which was alarming. Her heart rate picked up slightly, the change reflected on the medical consoles. All readings were within normal tolerances, though.

"Doctor Tobias, can you hear me?" Jennifer asked.

Her eyes closed, and she licked at dry lips. "Ian," she breathed quietly, eyes closing tightly.

Ian looked down at her, a pained expression on his face at her apparent discomfort.

"Here," he said, keeping to one word answers.

"Is it done?" she asked, looking up at him again.

He nodded. Ian inserted another vial into the device, and Tobias began to become more alert. She blinked roughly, clearing her vision. Finally, she focused on Jennifer again.

"All the numbers added up okay?" she asked.

"Everything went as planned," Jennifer reported confidently. "All we have to do now is test the interface."

"I don't mind telling you," Tobias said in a much stronger, clearer voice, "that I have a splitting headache." Her eyes closed again.

"Y-you have a h-hole in your head," Ian announced.

Even amid the pain, Tobias emitted a chuckle at Ian's firm grasp of the obvious.

"And that was the easy part," she said. Her eyes opened again, and she brought her attention to Jennifer once more. "Stage two is ready?"

"We're ready to make a connection when you are," Jennifer said.

Tobias looked to Ian again. "How's my body doing?"

He glanced at the vital signs on the console and nodded a confirmation to her that she was within the physical limits of safety. His nod of affirmation was a silent signal that she was okay, that the probe had not already done irreparable damage.

Jennifer sensed hesitation in the doctor that was frustrating. The project was so close to success that she could feel it. Then she reminded herself that good science required patience and deliberate judgment. Speed would come later, as Tobias predicted. The current moment required restraint and the discipline that was instilled in all Youth from their inception.

"Jennifer," Tobias said.

"Yes, Doctor?"

Tobias swallowed hard. "This could get ugly. Are you prepared for it?"

Exactly what "ugly" meant was lost on the cadet. She had no idea what the end process would look like, since all their work to date had been on dead bodies. Cadavers did not react to energy being pushed directly into brain tissue.

"If you say Ian is prepared for it, then I am for what I have to do." She did not believe Ian was in any way prepared for anything, but Tobias was. What the doctor thought was all that mattered.

"He is," Tobias assured. "Do what he says, and keep your head on straight. Don't interfere."

"I trust Ian will do the same?"

Tobias looked intently at Ian. A wan smile formed on her lips. "I know he will," she said.

The look exchanged between them was intense. Again, Tobias's heart rate rose slightly, which Jennifer could only attribute to the stress of the impending step in the process and the fact that she was entrusting her life to Ian.

"We had better get on with it," Tobias said. "Ian, induce the twilight sleep. When you're done, Jennifer will initiate the connection. Make sure the data is being recorded. If this doesn't work, someone should know why."

Jennifer checked to see the data was being stored correctly. The entire process had been recorded step by step, second by second. Nothing had been missed.

Ian slipped yet another vial into the device. Tobias looked to be fighting the drug it contained until her eyes fluttered and finally gave in to its effects. Her vital signs stabilized, showing even breathing and pulse.

Tobias had created the mock computer environment earlier in the previous weeks. It had been specifically designed as a testing ground to prove the interface would work. If all went well, Tobias would be able to see data, manipulate it, and have instant knowledge of its contents. The processors had been designed to generate random packs of data that would show if she was correctly interpreting what she was seeing. It was a bridge between human sight and higher mathematical function. The computer world would take the form of objects to be touched and moved and molded into other things. The idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it seemed impossible to accomplish. The experimentation with the rats, however, had shown great promise. The simplest program was to convince the rodent it was looking for a food prize in a virtual maze. It was so convincing to the animal that actually began chewing when it found the food. It sat on its hind legs and held out its hands, just like Mercury did when it held food. Of course, there was no food, but Tobias's program had convinced it that it had found some. Salivary glands reacted as if consuming food. Digestive functions began firing as if nourishment were present. The rat had no idea what it was seeing was not real. The interface had told its brain otherwise, and the rat believed it.

Jennifer initiated the mock environment, checking each component as it was brought online. All the systems appeared correct. To be sure, she ran a second check, which returned a positive result. Her confidence returned, and she felt more in control than she had her entire life. It was stronger than when she sat in the cockpit of a ship and assumed command of it. The machine world was hers for the power and manipulation. Her appreciation of its perfection was sometimes overwhelming. It was clean and unblemished once all the imperfections had been removed, a parallel for Lord Dread's new world.

She gave every reading one last hard look, verifying it was correct and within specification.

"Initiating connection sequence," she told Ian.

The console displayed the path of the signal, from the computer core through the probe link. Its destination was Tobias's brain, but it traveled more slowly than the final design would have it, allowing for continuous checksums of its progress.

The signal snaked through virtual portals, picking up information and components along the way with the intent of delivering the final product to the human brain tissue encased in Tobias's skull. It began pooling in a collection grid, massing in pieces that fit snugly together and in perfect harmony with one another, the way they were designed to work. Jennifer waited with building anticipation as its completion percentage, the mantra of the entire project, counted up toward one hundred percent. Finally, the data console showed the pool had been filled and was awaiting a dump into the next area.

Jennifer walked over to Tobias and picked up a thin filament. A coupler was attached to either end. One was meant to fit into the probe console's data port. The other would connect to the probe and deliver the data stream. Her hand was steady as she connected the probe console. The console confirmed a solid connection and that data was ready for the last connection. It would hold the collection pool until given the command to dump through the filament and into the neocortex.

With the same steady hand, Jennifer traced the slack of the filament until her fingers found the probe connection. The magnetic head clamped on to the port of the probe with a tiny metallic click. She let go, watching the filament float lightly downward until it settled, moving lithely in the circulating air of the lab.

Ian's eyes were solidly on the medical readouts, his eyes manically scanning each statistic. It was all within normal range. He gave Jennifer a reluctant nod to proceed.

Jennifer queued the command to release the connection. She pushed away any doubts to the back of her mind and issued the command to commence the connection.

Data flowed undaunted down the final pathway, through the filament and into the probe lodged in Tobias. There was no reaction from either the machine or the doctor. Results jogged across the console as the probe began making electrical connections to the synapses.

Then chaos erupted.

The medical console burst into alarms as vital statistics flew off the scale. Jennifer's attention was on the frenzy of information until she realized Tobias was seizing. Her body was held in place by the restraints, arching up against them with a violence Jennifer never anticipated. Tobias emitted staccato grunts as the connection continued, her brain firing off rebellious impulses that sent scrambled instructions to muscle and tissue. The medical console issued a new alarm as cardiac rhythms began failing, with the doctor's heart caught in a clutch of incorrect signals from her brain.

Ian's horror melted into a jaw that dropped in fear.

"Ian!" Jennifer said loudly, snapping him into action.

He reached onto the medication tray and found the next vial as Tobias had laid out for him. He snatched it up in his fingers and tried to insert it into the device, only to miss the mark amid Tobias's movements. Even against the head restraint, there was enough movement to disrupt his attempts.

"Hold her!" he commanded, his words clear and unimpeded.

Jennifer moved to the gurney and grasped Tobias's head with both hands as Ian made another attempt to administer the medication. The strength of the seizure was unexpected as Jennifer tried to hold the doctor's head steady. Neck muscles were rigid and hard, pulsing with each misfired signal. Finally, Ian managed to get the vial inserted.

Almost instantly, the seizure subsided. Jennifer felt a momentary relief until she realized the alarms on the medical console continued to sound. Tobias became deathly still as the medication slowed all activity to a crawl. Respirations dropped to dangerous levels, and the doctor's heart rate plummeted to only a few beats per minute.

"We have to do something," Jennifer said urgently. She was prepared to contact Volcania in just moments.

"Wait," Ian said, his formation of the word drawn out but continuous.

His fingers curled around Tobias's wrist, feeling the pulse there as the doctor had to Jennifer earlier in the morning. He closed his eyes as if analyzing what he felt, as if the medical console was telling lies. When he looked at Tobias again, he reached for her head. Ian's thumb peeled back the doctor's eyelids one at a time. Her pupils had dilated, and her eyes moved, as if seeing.

The medical alarms began calming as vital signs began climbing into acceptable ranges. Tobias's chest rose and fell in steady breaths through a relaxing and slightly open mouth. Jennifer saw Ian shrink back as the readings continued to improve.

Then Tobias began to awaken. The slack mouth gained muscle control, and she swallowed. She took a deep breath, as if yawning. More and more, the medical console showed normal readings, much to Jennifer's relief. It was an even bigger relief when the doctor opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling with the same sightless moves.

"Doctor Tobias?" Jennifer said, louder than normal. There was no response. "Doctor?" she said again, equally as loud.

Ian suddenly reached down and put his calm and steady hand on the doctor's cheek. "H-Helene," he said gently.

The unseeing, manic eyes aimed in the direction of his face, though they did not focus.

"Ian," Tobias breathed in an unsteady voice. Her respirations became restless again, as if she were in pain. Then she relaxed again, calming more.

Jennifer took Ian's cue and lowered the timbre of her voice when speaking to the doctor who had suddenly been transformed into patient.

"Doctor Tobias," Jennifer said more softly, "how do you feel?"

Tobias hesitated, as if organizing her response. "I hurt," she managed, the words coming in between breaths, "but I can . . . I can see the data. I can see the stream."

It had been successful, despite the rocky start. Jennifer felt elation at the news, feeling justified in her confidence that her work was perfect and to the standards worthy of the new empire. She had worked alongside the greatest scientific mind and had kept up to accomplish the next step in evolution.

Ian inserted another vial into the device that sent Tobias sleeping again almost instantly.

"What are you doing!" Jennifer exclaimed at him.

Ian did not look at Jennifer. He kept his eyes trained on Tobias. "She needs t-to sleep," he said matter-of-factly.

"You don't do anything like that without my authorization!"

Ian picked up the data pad on the medication tray and shoved it roughly at Jennifer. Then he began unbuckling Tobias from the table, leaving the head restraint in place. She watched as he fixed a life support cuff around Tobias's arm, meant to sustain a patient with nutrients and fluids while infirm.

Jennifer scanned the data pad for the treatment plan. Indeed, Tobias had indicated that sedation was in order following a successful link into the data stream to give the brain time to adjust to the flow. Early research, done months before Jennifer had been assigned to Alaceda, suggested that the constant connection to the conscious and subconscious brain would cause a virtual overload on senses. Akin to the body's need for rest, a cessation of data to the brain was necessary for proper function. Consequences included seizures and even psychosis if denied long enough. There was even the possibility of death.

Ian pulled over a stool and sat down next to Tobias. He paid no attention to Jennifer, nor did he seem to care what she thought. He held Tobias's hand in his, watching her sleep, his eyes watching the medical data closely until he was satisfied Tobias was stable and sleeping.

Jennifer returned to the data console, conceding Ian's will to stay at Tobias's side. She decided to put the time to use by beginning an examination of the experiment data that the sensors had recorded. The load of information was voluminous, and she estimated it would take days just to scratch the surface of understanding. She envisioned herself becoming known as one of the leading minds in cybernetic technology, knowing she had been in on the pioneering steps of the process. She was determined to understand, perhaps one day take the same step she had just witnessed Doctor Tobias take, and contribute her own efforts to the New Order.

She began organizing the data into manageable chunks for analysis. Before Jennifer knew it, two hours had slipped by as she pored over the data. She looked back to find Ian with his head resting on the side of the gurney, sleeping, his hand still secured around the doctor's. Tobias's vital signs remained steady, and the monitor of brain activity showed normal sleep patterns of deep sleep.

Jennifer wondered about Ian's relationship with Tobias once more. His vested interest in the older woman's welfare seemed at odds with his childlike personality. In one moment, he was frightened and unsure. In the next, he was vehement and in control of what he wanted or thought should happen. There was little correlation between those moments, and Jennifer was unable to get the proper perspective on how he perceived the doctor. Ian felt comfortable in touching Tobias in improper ways, as when he held her face or at that moment, when he held her hand. Tobias was a superior to both of them. His familiarity was out of place and foreign. Jennifer decided it was something to be addressed at a later time. She needed Ian to care for Tobias's physical being and to follow the protocols that had obviously been written before the experiment began. To that end, Jennifer decided to allow for his indiscretions for the moment until the proper time presented itself to address them. Even then, she knew she would be at the mercy of the doctor's patience with the man.

The data flowed and ebbed on the screen as Jennifer began tracing the process from start to finish. The day had started out on a stressful note, but it was ending on a high chorus of success. She wanted nothing more than to report everything that had happened to Lord Dread, but that would have been usurping the doctor's rights and authority. The only way Jennifer would inform Lord Dread of the day's progress was if he contacted her first, in which case she was obligated to tell him everything.

She set algorithms to check data integrity and started a backup process to create a master copy of the transfer data. The console indicated it was running every requested task, which left Jennifer time to think. She began dissecting the whole issue of the data corruption that had begun her day. It occurred to her then that she had not properly bathed for over twenty-four hours, and her uniform was not to standard. It was a raging debate for quite a while whether she could leave the lab to rectify the situation or if she should remain and monitor the doctor's status. She calculated the possibilities on either side, realizing that the penalty for improper uniform condition was so much less than if something catastrophic occurred to Tobias. She decided to stay and wait for the algorithms to finish.

That left her to review the day's events one at a time. Jennifer pulled up the corrupted data on the console and began analyzing it line by line, looking for any indications of a culprit. An act of treason was always to be avenged, as she had been taught. First, though, she had to find the perpetrator. Then, she would lead the charge to bring about proper punishment, even if it meant death to the offender.

There were thousands of lines of code, each one with its own unique set of commands. She used a trace protocol to compare the corrupted script against the one they had used to implant the probe in Tobias. Somewhere in the huge data sets lay the answer she sought. There was always something to identify the traitor who tried to sabotage Lord Dread's systems. That rule had been taught from day one of academy training. It was a matter of the investigator looking hard enough and having the proper drive to find the answer. Only those who did not possess a strong enough sense of dedication failed in the task.

Her frustration mounted as she pulled apart each component of the first suspect line of code. Each indication she showed an internal terminal location as a point of entry. Indeed, Tobias could have been completely correct that it was not the work of rebels but of someone inside Alaceda. If that were the case, simple alias programs could pick any location in the base as a point of origin. If the program were intuitive enough, it could well generate millions of origin points, making it appear as though every terminal in the base had been used for each corrupted line of code. Jennifer had no choice but to conclude that anyone with access to the main computer core could be considered a suspect. That left open the remote possibility that rebels had compromised the core, and the corruption was truly from the outside, not from within the confines of the base. The only person she was sure had nothing to do with the corruption was herself. Given the relatively small contingent of personnel at the station, it would take days, but the answer would eventually be found. The perpetrator would be caught and properly punished for nearly killing Doctor Tobias.

She finished analyzing the first line, finding no indication of the source of the corruption.

"One down, a million to go," she said to the room where history had been made and the future of Lord Dread's New Order had been born.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Jennifer decided to finally return to her quarters to bathe and change. It had been six hours since Tobias had been implanted and sedated. There was no sign that she would awaken soon, according to the medical protocol Ian had almost thrown at her. Her eyes were tired from reviewing code. She still had no more information than when she started, except to establish that the perpetrator's sense of coding was superior to anything she had seen to date. As a last resort, Jennifer would submit the coding to Volcania's scientists for analysis, but she wanted to find an answer before turning over the evidence to them, knowing it would be her only chance to look at the data without constraint.

Mercury waddled out of its box, sensing her presence when she entered the room. Her quarters were unkempt and needed to be reorganized. The weeks spent working for Doctor Tobias had caused her priorities to shift. Little things began to slip, like making sure every item in her quarters was in its place unless being used. At first, she was exemplary about it. Then, she found herself leaving Mercury's food container near the cage because it was being used on a daily basis. Data pads were stacked on the desk, much like they were on Doctor's Tobias's. Her involvement in the program was constant, making it nearly impossible to store data pads when she was always having to refer to them.

The shower felt soothing as she stood under the hot stream of water. Jennifer's neck muscles screamed with tension, much like they had when her cadre was subjected to physical training drills, or when they were forced to remain at attention for no particular reason for hours on end. Some members could not complete the task and were severely reprimanded for it. Jennifer, however, found ways to force herself to complete the order. She used her brain as a tool to ignore the pain of the moment, not analyze it. She would go somewhere else entirely, to a landscape of numbers and designs. If the pain became too intense, she would envision herself in the cockpit of a fighter, free to fly the sky and pursue that which she dreamed of one day doing for real.

She realized then that she had not had occasion to do that since coming to work with Doctor Tobias. There had been no moments where her mind had been forced to retreat to the safety of fantasy or distraction. Indeed, there had been no physical retribution for failure, nor had there been any type of overall pressure to succeed. Tobias had acted as a mentor, a benevolent figure who encouraged exploration and did not punish mistakes.

Jennifer finished bathing and dressed in a fresh uniform. Unlike some spots in her quarters, she had kept up with her appearance. She was completely within regulations, knowing she could be subject to inspection by Lord Dread or any superior at any moment. For that, she wanted to be ready. Boots were shined, uniform was crisp and perfect. She took a moment to prepare her hair according to the guidelines set forth from her childhood training. She had made the steps in her appearance a process to be followed daily. Not even Doctor Tobias with all her questions would change that. Jennifer believed her appearance was the first line of defense in warding off overunits eager to exert their authority.

Mercury was fully awake when Jennifer emerged from the shower area. She petted it, stroking its back, which she found it liked quite a bit. Mercury's cold paws left a distinct feeling on her hand as she fed it its daily meal. There was something about the constancy of seeing Mercury that she took an unnatural comfort in at the end of each day. Its ways were without judgment, its wants and needs natural to the species. Jennifer could read the information obtained by the study of rats and understand the concepts and accept the theories. Rats were certainly more palatable than rebels who interfered with destiny by corrupting vital written code. Rats, she decided, were worthy of respect for their simplicity. Rebels were not.

She provided Mercury with enough food and water for a few days, for fear that she might become too busy to care for it. Her mind was tired, having been through so many lines of code that she stopped counting. She simply referenced the distance to the bottom of the list as a mark of progress. Despite her weariness, the lines of code still appeared in her mind as she prepared for another shift of work. She was sure there was something she was missing in her investigation. It was possible she had just not come across the right clue that would lead her to an answer, but it was frustrating not to have found anything to that point. Someone had tried to kill Doctor Tobias, tried to ruin the next phase of machine dominance. Jennifer was determined to find who did it. She did not care why they did it. The rebel's reason would be pointless. To defy Lord Dread was punishable by death, a fitting end to the scoundrels she had been in contact with in her short career.

Mercury turned its attention to the new supply of food, hardly glancing at her as she left the room. As she proceeded down the hall, she thought about the entire procedure that had been performed on Tobias. It was still mysterious to Jennifer why the doctor had chosen herself as the first recipient when it was so dangerous. Then again, there were numerous things that were mysterious when it came to the doctor's lab practices and even life, itself. Jennifer felt constantly on guard against the doctor's questions, sensing a trap in each one of them. Already, they had been confrontational about certain topics, from which Jennifer successfully extricated herself. The next report to Lord Dread would be a crucial one, because it would be difficult to explain how uncomfortable the questions had been for the young cadet. There was no proof of betrayal, just unrecorded words that were suspect at best. She needed positive proof before accusing the empire's best researcher of treason. The sentiment was there, she was sure, but sentiment was not enough. Lord Dread would require more than the inexperienced words of a Youth cadet.

She came across Mason and Dixon standing at attention in a side hallway near the lab. They were inactive, waiting in passive mode for instructions. She had seen them in that state more often in recent days. Before that, they had been an active pair, moving cargo and other items around the facility on Tobias's order. Now, they were in a kind of sleep mode, waiting for a command to awaken and perform a task. She wondered if Tobias had parked them there for a reason. Then she dismissed her curiosity. It made sense that Mason and Dixon would be in standby mode. Tobias was the only one who could command them as far as Jennifer knew. With the doctor preoccupied with the probe procedure, there would be little for the mechs to do until she was on her feet again.

The outer lab was quiet. She had locked it down before leaving, and it did not appear anyone had entered in her absence. When Jennifer entered the probe lab, she found Ian in the same position as when she had left. His head was on the side of the gurney, and the corner of his mouth was wet where saliva had pooled, leaving a dark spot on the otherwise white linen covering Tobias.

There was no reason to wake Ian. In fact, Jennifer found it to be a better circumstance that he was sleeping. He was intrusive otherwise, half brilliant and a half-wit most of the time, making him hard to interpret. His relationship to Tobias bothered Jennifer more than she could adequately describe. The doctor's patience with him was unreasonable and abnormal.

Jennifer sat down at the terminal again to begin more research into the corrupted code. Her determination waned, though, after just a few lines. There were so many things to research, none of which she would be able to do as long as Tobias was able to monitor the research. Jennifer had been bothered by so much that it was difficult to find a starting place. She decided to begin with the first suspect instance that had caught her attention – the lack of reclamation order numbers for previous research cadavers. It was time to start compiling data for the report to Lord Dread. To be sure, she quickly checked the medical protocol as Tobias had described and saw she had six more hours to work before it would be time to waken her.

Then there was the liability of Ian. If he woke up while she was looking at sensitive data, he would surely tell Tobias, and that was something she could not allow. There was a simple solution to it, and that was to make sure he slept as long as Tobias did. It was simple to do in a lab full of medical supplies. He never knew what hit him as she injected him with a sedative. His light snoring quieted into a deep, drug-induced sleep. To be sure, Jennifer poked at him to see if she could elicit a response. He was as dead to the conscious world as the cadavers used in the early experiments.

She returned to the console and began reviewing the files. There were hundreds of detailed research results, including video documentation of procedures and results. It all seemed to be in order. Perhaps, she thought, she was chasing a shadow with the investigation. Everything was there that should be except one tiny bit of information – a reclamation number. The bodies should have had a disposal tracking number, but they did not. From what she could tell, Mason and Dixon had been dispatched to dispose of each body in the burners, and a log showed the command being issued by Tobias each time. There could have been a number of reasons a reclamation number had not been issued, not the least of which was that Tobias often shirked regulations and followed her own path in the empire. On the whole, missing clerical information was by no means an indictment.

All the records were like that. Every cadaver was missing a number. Mason and Dixon had removed every body. There was a striking similarity in each file. The evidence of experimentation was profound. Jennifer could see the very early stages of the probe project and saw the initial failures. There had been dissections to discover what went wrong, and some live implant subjects experienced catastrophic failures in attempts to mate human flesh with metal machine. The probe project was not the only ongoing experiment in the files. While Tobias worked on the probes, she also tried implanting machine pieces in other parts of the body. It was clear where some avenues of approach were abandoned. The damage done to live subjects was immense, ruining them for further use. Tobias had taken the liberty of euthenizing them and disposing of them using Mason and Dixon. She expended many prisoners, which was not at issue. Rebels took up space, and they were otherwise useless. At least Tobias was utilizing them for a cause, which was furthering the empire and bringing it to its destiny.

She felt she had seen all that she could see for the moment in the experimentation records. Nothing she had looked proved out of the ordinary for the most part. Certainly, no damning information could be gleaned from the files. That left the next point of interest to her – Ian.

She had expended nearly four hours looking at previous files. That left two hours to decipher the enigma that was the man with imperfect speech and a dichotomous balance of intelligence and childlike emotion. When she opened his file, she found an extensive log of treatments Tobias had performed. First was the testing of his intelligence quotient. Initial results showed strengths in memorization and repeating of exact instruction. He was able to remember vast quantities of information and was able to recall it in detail when asked. His abilities tested at the top of the achievement scale meant to judge a human being's value to the overall mission and vision of the New Order.

His emotional coping abilities were another matter. According to Tobias's calculations, Ian had the mentality of a seven-year-old, incapable of navigating complex thought processes meant to test his problem-solving skills as they pertained to Lord Dread's precepts. In multiple batteries of tests, he failed to recognize the boundaries of conduct as prescribed by Lord Dread. He would never qualify to join the Dread Youth, nor would he ever qualify as anything more than directed labor. As Tobias had stated, he was scheduled for termination despite the doctor's best effort to stay that order. The grace period of existence she had bargained for had expired when she could not illustrate his usefulness. His emotional deficiencies were his undoing. While he could perform brilliantly in terms of technical instruction, he was incapable of fulfilling the mental duties of all Youth and subsequent officers in the service of Lord Dread.

Her heart leapt with the feeling of discovery when she finally realized how Tobias had trained him to manage the medical needs of the probe experiment. There were numerous recordings of him being exposed to data streams through the goggles Jennifer had seen him use when she first arrived. Just as Tobias used them to correct his speech patterns, she also fed him pertinent medical procedures meant to enable him to watch over her when she was unable to do so during lab procedures. He was repeating preordained operating procedures based on the instructions Tobias had fed his brain. Jennifer concluded he was reacting to what she had told him might happen during the procedure, not what he had decided was the right thing to do. In essence, he was running on a program. Just as he knew how to reassemble the flight controls to a shuttle, he had a set of instructions implanted in his brain and was executing them.

That line of investigation led another startling revelation - the probe experiment was not the first time Tobias had used herself as a test subject. Her pattern of operation was consistent. First, she would conduct initial testing on cadavers. Then she would employ the technique on herself. Finally, she would perfect the process on prisoners. It was as though she was absorbing the full potential of a process by experiencing it herself. When Jennifer considered the idea, it made perfect sense. There was no better way to realize how to improve a process than to actually experience it. She likened it to flight simulators. They were very accurate, but there was nothing like actually experiencing changes in gravitational factors when flying to bring the entire task into focus.

Tobias had done shocking things to herself in order to test the new devices she invented. There was recorded evidence of the doctor inflicting grotesque wounds upon herself and attempting to heal them with different implementations until she hit upon the most effective. The most recent was a month before Jennifer had arrived at Alaceda. In every instance, Ian had been there to render assistance as required. Even more shocking was the lack of anesthetic. Tobias fully felt the wounds and their pain. Jennifer supposed the purpose was in line with the doctor's quest to fully understand each project. The practice, though, seemed abnormal and unfathomable given the intensity of some of the wounds. In most cases, Tobias achieved great success in healing herself. In two instances, she required the advanced care of Doctor Peterson in order to recover. In those instances, Tobias had miscalculated the level of damage and what was required to heal it. And in those two instances, Ian had spun out of control. His insane screams of fear and frustration made him useless to Tobias and her needs. In the end, she made the call to Doctor Peterson, herself, somehow managing to calm Ian in the process and remove him from the lab area before help arrived.

Jennifer continued to watch the recordings until she found one that had a different naming convention. It appeared to have been stored in the wrong container on the system. She opened the file, curious as to its contents. The date stamp showed it to be a day after the second major incident in which Ian had failed to perform.

She had summoned him to the lab. His immediate act upon entering the room was to cower in a corner behind a lab table. He rocked back and forth, his knees pulled to his chin and his sight distant. Jennifer listened to the audio.

"_Ian?" Tobias called gently. She stooped down where he was trying to hide. "Ian, please look at me."_

_He refused, continuing to rock and look at a blank wall._

_She reached to touch his face. He did not shy away, but he did not acknowledge the effort, either._

"_Ian, it's not your fault," she said softly. "You did everything you were supposed to do. Look," she said, pulling up the sleeve of her cloak to reveal a silver appliance on her skin. "It's all better."_

_Her words were no comfort to him. He did not give even a glance at the display. He rocked back and forth in a quick rhythm._

_Tobias sat down against the wall, more in line with Ian's sight. "I know you were very afraid. That was my fault. I didn't think there would be that much blood. It's all better now, though. Doctor Peterson fixed me. Please look, Ian."_

_Finally, he looked at her arm. He did not display any comfort in seeing the device. That was when she reached out and cupped his chin again with a gentle hand._

"_I'm sorry I made you afraid," she said. "That was wrong of me. Please forgive me," she asked quietly._

_It took a few moments before he made the decision to look her in the eye. When he did, he leaned forward and melted into her embrace like a scared child, his sobs recorded on the surveillance. She held him, rocking him, soothing him in his fear in the corner of the lab._

The video abruptly ended without explanation or notation. Jennifer sat in contemplation of the recording. She had never seen Ian lose control as he had in the video logs. He was uncontrollable and insane in his distress. Likewise, she had never seen Tobias be so gentle and forgiving as she was in the unusual entry. It was possible the entry was a follow-up to the entire incident, but Jennifer sensed a different purpose, though it was difficult to say for certain without asking the doctor directly.

Jennifer called up supporting data of the incident. According to the records, Tobias had been testing a cellular regeneration device when she inadvertently severed an artery in her arm. The protocol had been to repair a superficial wound, not one so deep and damaging. She had given Ian instructions on how to employ the regeneration shell, not what to do if something more serious occurred. When Tobias collapsed from a loss of blood, Ian panicked. Only by helping herself was Tobias able to survive the ordeal. She saved her own life by stemming the loss of blood until Doctor Peterson arrived to further assist her and repair the damage. It was a close call by any standard. Tobias had endangered herself in what Jennifer deemed to be unnecessary ways.

She heard a subtle cough behind her. Jennifer turned, startled at the sound. Doctor Tobias stirred on the gurney, her head still immobilized.

Jennifer approached her carefully, unsure if she was awake or just coming out of the sedation. She was surprised to find the doctor's eyes half-open and groggy.

"Doctor?" Jennifer said, leaning over the bed. "Are you all right?"

Tobias struggled to the surface of consciousness. She finally focused on Jennifer, her eyes opening fully. She focused her eyes on the cadet, unable to move her head at all.

"I had the strangest dream," she said thickly. "I was inside the test environment."

"It was just a dream, Doctor," Jennifer offered, trying to be reassuring. Nothing had appeared on the console to indicate that any connection had been made with the test environment.

"I could see the data," she said. "I could touch it, just like I designed."

"You need to rest."

Tobias's eyes looked around to the limit of their movement. "Where's Ian?" she asked with muted alarm.

Jennifer looked to where Ian still lay asleep at Tobias's side. "He's sleeping," she said quietly. "I didn't see a need to wake him."

Tobias closed her eyes, still groggy. "You don't like him, do you?" she asked in an intoxicated tone.

"What I like or don't like doesn't matter," Jennifer answered quietly, trying to keep the doctor calm. "I'm here to serve your needs."

"But you like to fly," Tobias accused with a drugged grin. "You told me that."

Jennifer decided pacification was the best response, given the doctor's condition. "Yes, I like to fly, Doctor."

"You like to fly, but you don't like Ian. I don't get that," Tobias slurred. "He's never done anything to you. Never done anything wrong to anyone, but they're going to kill him." Her eyes opened and focused on Jennifer. "How do you suppose they justify that – killing such a sweet, innocent kid?"

Jennifer had no answer to the question. It was not her place to question the will of Lord Dread, and she knew better than to discuss weighty topics with the doctor in her current state.

"You need to rest, Doctor Tobias. We can talk about that when you're more awake."

Tobias gave a muffled snort. "You won't have an answer for it then, either. You're too brainwashed to think for yourself. You're a mech with a bloodstream, you know that? A living, breathing robot who's been programmed to do what it's told," she rambled in a drunken voice.

"And who the hell are you to tell me I have to rest?" she continued. She reached down with one hand and began pulling at the blankets. "I'll tell you when I'm ready to get up, _cadet_." Her other hand reached for the head immobilizer.

Instantly, Jennifer regretted having drugged Ian. She could have used his help then and there. He would know which vial to insert to stop Tobias's tirade and make her sleep. He read the data and knew what to do in the protocol. The situation was fast becoming critical as Tobias continued to try to free herself from the bond of the immobilizer. Jennifer tried to recall as quickly as possible the standards on the data pad for such a circumstance. All she could remember was the look of the vial Ian had used when Tobias had begun seizing following the procedure.

Her mind rapidly weighed the risks if she was wrong about using it. If the drug was too much, it could harm the doctor. On the other hand, if she did nothing, Tobias would surely dislodge the probe and risk death.

She made the decision to inject the vial in a matter of seconds. Tobias began to calm almost instantly. She stopped struggling. Her arm that had been trying to dismantle the head restraint flopped down onto the gurney, all muscle control gone. The medical console rang out in alarm again, but Jennifer quickly remembered that Ian had simply waited for the vital signs to stabilize. Where Tobias's heart slowed its rate, Jennifer's thumped wildly as she willed the situation to improve. It seemed an eternity before Tobias's statistics began normalizing and she was in another deep, steady sleep.

The relief she felt in Tobias recovering was overwhelming. She could just imagine having to contact Doctor Peterson to intervene and trying to explain what had happened. Even though she had mounting information that Doctor Tobias was not as loyal as she should have been, it would not be enough to offset the fact that she had drugged the top mind in cybernetics.

She looked at Tobias sleeping deeply on the gurney, with Ian at her bedside. Flashes of imagery from the strange recording in the archive played in Jennifer's mind. She went to the console again and began looking up Ian's data file.

Not surprisingly, the record had been sanitized. Jennifer had no doubt that Doctor Tobias had eliminated vital information from the file. She was able to determine that Ian was twenty-five years old, was male, and had developmental disabilities. He had lived in Alaceda since he was twelve, under the direct care and supervision of Doctor Tobias. How he had come to be there was a mystery Jennifer was not sure she would ever solve. To ask Tobias directly was an invitation for more confrontation, which might be detrimental to the overall mission of intelligence gathering. On the whole, who Ian was or where he came from seemed inconsequential compared to other possible infractions the doctor was suspected of committing.

She looked again for more notes on Ian. For a time, he had become the focus of Tobias's work. She had listed several key areas for improvement and had concentrated her knowledge in cybernetics to repair or rebuild key areas of his brain that were deficient. Her greatest success had come in speech pathology, where she had improved his communication skills by a clear forty-two percent. Early records showed Ian was barely able to speak at all when Tobias first began working with him. She carefully analyzed his abilities and mapped a way to improve his speech patterns enough to make him an effective member of the hangar crew. He tested high in memorization and execution of complex instructions, indicating he was capable of higher brain function without much cognizance. He could do what he was told, but he was incapable of understanding why.

That was not to say he did not suffer the ills of human emotions. As was apparent in the recording, he suffered fear when something occurred he did not understand. Tobias was forced to help him cope when unexpected events arose that triggered highly charged emotional responses in him. His inability to navigate his emotions in stressful circumstances made him a danger to both himself and those around him.

All of the technical data made sense to Jennifer. It all added up that Ian was imperfect and flawed, but it did nothing to explain Tobias's interest in him. Her care for him was beyond scientific. She was acutely concerned with his environment, his experiences, and everything that impacted his life. Her words were measured and simple to hi m, and her interest in bettering his deficiencies was more than just an experiment. Jennifer could not quite identify what it was that made it so different. It was like Ian was the doctor's pet. He was her rat, her own Mercury, except Ian had a bed and could roam around Alaceda without the limits of a cage. He had been brought into Tobias's world for a reason, but it was one that was full of mystery and intrigue. Jennifer wondered exactly what it was that drew Tobias to Ian, what had caused her to invest so much time and effort into his rehabilitation.

She looked back at Tobias, now sound asleep on the gurney. Ian had adjusted his position but remained asleep, too. An empty gurney lay unoccupied across from them. No matter how imperfect Ian was, Jennifer surmised that his musculature was prone to the same aches and pains as anyone else. He would be sore when he awoke if he remained in the same position too long. She gambled he had come out of her impromptu sedation of him enough to get him onto the bed.

She struggled to get him to follow commands, but he did after she issued snapped words of instruction. He was heavy, and his movements were awkward. She ended up lifting his legs for him as he melted onto the soft pad of the gurney. Ian was asleep again almost instantly as she pulled a blanket over him for warmth in the cool air of the probe lab. He curled into a fetal position, a child locked in a man's body forever.

Jennifer watched the two of them sleeping with intrigue. Everything she had been taught screamed there was something wrong, yet there was something so comforting in their relationship. No matter how hard she tried, she could not identify what it was that she found herself yearning for, to the point that she was willing to switch positions in life with Ian for just a moment to know what it was. Nothing in her texts covered what she had witnessed between them since coming to Alaceda. To that end, everything she had seen contradicted most of what she had been taught. It was not a question of rules being broken, although that was certainly an issue. It was something more, something so intangible yet so inviting that it became quite clear Jennifer had never been a part of something like it. It was a foreign circumstance, one that was weak and careless, or so it seemed on the surface. When Jennifer looked at it more closely, though, it was a fierce bond between the doctor and Ian that not even Lord Dread could sever. Ian had a sense of belonging. It was not like belonging to a Dread Youth cadre. It was different, so different that Jennifer could not begin to put her thoughts in order to form a clearer picture.

Her mind recalled Tobias's rant about not liking Ian, which was partially true. Jennifer did not like his imperfections and his inabilities. He was weak, despite flashes of brilliance that she envied. His childlike ways were immature and faulty, but there was an innocence about him that was inviting. His world was simple, and Tobias was at the center of it. And, Jennifer suspected, he was the center of the doctor's. The only question remained as to why that was.

Jennifer's eyes burned with sleepiness. It had already been a long day of progress. She did not want to fall asleep, but she knew she had to rest in order to assume her duties in the next phase of the project. The medical console would sound if anything went wrong or suspect. She was confident she would be awakened at the first sign of trouble. She leaned back in the chair, finding a comfortable position in which to rest. Her eyes closed, and she drifted off, with images of Tobias and Ian falling silently away into the nothingness of sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I have to admit that I had to go back and read Chapter 12 again to figure out where I had left off with this story. That's what I get for letting life interfere with my hobbies for too long! In any case, we're off and running again! **

**Chapter 13**

Jennifer was caught in a dream state where everything was wrong and yet it was all so familiar. Images of her cadet life mingled with her mind's interpretation of places that did not exist but were still known to her. Faces, some she recognized, were a part of the tapestry, interacting with one another and sometimes even her. It was comfortable and orderly, like everything should be. Her mind interpreted the meaning of the images in flawless reasoning, even though some of it was strange and unfamiliar. The dream plane was of her making, a fact she was well aware of every time she entered it.

Then it was rocked by a shudder and then another. The plane was shattered. Pieced of it melted away and no longer made sense. She was being pulled from that perfect, comfortable world by something in the real world. She knew that instinctively, but she could not remember what the real world was or why it would be intruding on the only place she could truly call her own and control. A point of pressure on her should was incessant until she was finally free of the dream world and brought back to real consciousness. The annoying dot of pain in her shoulder continued to coerce her into alertness.

When she opened her eyes, she found Ian standing at her side, poking her should again and again in an effort to awaken her.

Reality came back to Jennifer in a torrent. She remembered where she was, what she had done, and to whom she had done it. Her first victim on the night stood above her, shoving his finger into her arm in an effort to awaken her.

"I'm up," she said, annoyed.

Ian's hand dropped back to his side. He looked at her expectantly.

Jennifer realized he was waiting for her. "Is Doctor Tobias awake?"

Ian nodded.

Jennifer stood from the chair in a shot. She had no idea how long she had been asleep there, but her sore muscles said it was longer than she had intended. She made a line to where Tobias lay conscious and still immobilized. Ian joined both of them at the gurney. Tobias looked exhausted but there was no sign of the belligerence she displayed the last time she was awake, much to Jennifer's relief. The only comfort was that Ian was now awake, as well, and he would be able to help if Tobias suddenly went into another tirade.

"I feel like a transport hit me," Tobias said.

"You've been through quite a bit, Doctor," Jennifer said encouragingly. She declined to mention that she had sedated the doctor with a truckload of sedatives in the heat of the moment.

"Ian," Tobias said, craning her eyes to view him, "give Corporal Chase the protocol list."

Dutifully, Ian took the data pad out of the large pocket of his coveralls and handed it to Jennifer. There was a slight sense of reluctance as his fingers held on to the pad longer than he should have, causing her to have to practically yank it from his hand.

"Ian, you go to your quarters now and sleep," Tobias said, oblivious to the exchange. "We'll be fine."

Ian remained silent, but the look on his face screamed that he did not want to go. He eyed Jennifer with daggers that nearly shot through the back of her skull. He was throwing silent accusations at her, with his childlike intellect. She counted herself lucky he was imperfect in that moment, unable to voice his suspicions with any articulation or credibility. His only recourse was to follow the orders of someone he viewed as his ultimate authority and return to his quarters.

Jennifer was never so glad to see him go. She turned her attention to Tobias, wanting with earnest to completely close any avenues of reproach from Ian.

"Well, don't you look like hell, too," Tobias said to Jennifer.

Jennifer raised an unconscious hand to smooth her blonde hair, afraid something was out of place. It felt okay, but Tobias's comment meant there was something not up to specification.

"Stop fidgeting," Tobias said. "You're tired in your eyes," she clarified. Then she looked at Jennifer's subconscious uniform inspection. "Trust me, that uniform is as stiff as you are. It hasn't lost any pleats."

The words stung in Jennifer's gut, and she was instantly reminded of the doctor's tirade. She tried to justify it as a result of medication reacting with the doctor's implanted brain, but it was more than that. It had been a moment of complete honesty that was uninhibited, a suppressed demon side of Tobias's brain that had broken free and had spoken more truth than the refined, controlled side. Jennifer was convinced she had heard Tobias's actual opinion of the cadet and whom she really was.

Tobias did not pursue the comment further. "Bring that diagnostic panel over here," she said. "I need to see what I did to myself."

Jennifer obeyed and rolled the panel to where Tobias could see it. Sharp eyes scanned lines of data as they scrolled upward on the screen.

"Any anomalies?" Tobias asked.

Jennifer froze at the question. In her mind, there were plenty, but the biggest had been Tobias's tirade. A queasy feeling swelled in her stomach as she tried to formulate a way to explain the events.

"Well?" Tobias prompted when Jennifer did not answer right away.

"You became disoriented during the night," Jennifer finally reported, settling on words that seemed benign enough. "I had to sedate you a second time."

Tobias looked at her with something that was as close to a curious shock as Jennifer had seen since arriving at Alaceda. "You sedated me? Where was Ian?"

"He was exhausted," Jennifer lied. "I had to handle the situation myself. You were trying to remove the probe."

She waited for the doctor to launch into a reprimand, demanding answers. Her heart pounded, and she hoped that her fear did not translate into her face, or much worse, her eyes that Tobias seemed to equate as a window into her inner being.

"Interesting," was Tobias's only reply.

Jennifer jumped through the window of refuge Tobias had opened. "It was."

Tobias returned her attention to the data console. "I take it you've reviewed the results?"

"I lost track of how many times I went through it," Jennifer said. "I couldn't find any anomalies."

"And I'm still alive," Tobias added. "Not a bad start."

Jennifer noticed Tobias becoming more alert as the data scrolled on the screen. The older woman's eyes were intense and sharp as she read the results of her own experiment.

The data was truly an amazing mass of numbers illustrating connections the probe had made. It displayed each point of contact where data was exchanged between brain tissue and the advanced composite that was the probe. There was a constant communication between living tissue and the computer meant to receive and deliver data. Tobias watched the trade. Only then did it occur to Jennifer what they had really done.

She looked at Tobias, laid out on a gurney and immobile, passively communicating with a machine via a foreign device. It was not that it had not been done in the past. Early pioneers in cybernetic research had accomplished the most basic of interactions between human physiology and machine hardware. Small steps, like controlling mechanical hands with a thought and seeing while blindfolded with the aid of sensors had been the first leaps into cyborg technology. There were even records of cybernetic implants helping the paralyzed to move limbs again. Nothing had even approached what Tobias had accomplished, though. All that remained was to complete the link and verify the success of the experiment. If Tobias could actively read data, then she would certainly be paving the road for Lord Dread's immortality.

Tobias relaxed strained eyes, looking straight up at the ceiling of the lab. "I want you to run the checksum tests I've listed on the protocol. If they all come back clean, we'll proceed."

Jennifer nodded and returned to the data console on the far side of the lab. She called up the checksum programs as Tobias requested and began running them. The computer gave an estimate of twenty minutes to completion.

"Are you in any pain?" Jennifer asked, returning to Tobias's side.

"Just cold," Tobias said. "I'm feeling strangely like one of my test subjects," she said, glancing at the corpses surrounding her.

Jennifer pulled the blanket higher and tighter, tucking the edges under Tobias's shoulders. She caught Tobias studying her and tried to ignore it.

"What's wrong?" Tobias asked.

Jennifer tried to brush off the concern. "Nothing. I'm tired, like you said."

"You seem upset by something, Jennifer. This is not the time to be holding back on me. Tell me if there is a problem. Something happen that I need to know?"

There was an overwhelming urge to let Tobias know just how wrong her accusations had been during her brief consciousness following the procedure, but Jennifer knew it would have been a mistake. It would have opened up a whole new deeply personal conversation she simply did not feel like having. There had already been too many divulgences of personal information with the doctor that had the potential to turn into weapons down the road, especially if an overunit, or worse, Lord Dread, ever discovered them. Vulnerabilities were the enemy, highlighting weakness. That was not the goal of any cadet. Strength was mandatory. There was no room or use for weak candidates in Lord Dread's New Order.

"I'm still nervous about the original program being altered," she lied.

"I assume you did some checking on that while I was out?"

"Some, but I haven't found any source yet."

"Well," Tobias said, "don't let it worry you. If anything had been wrong with the backup, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm going to watch the checksums and make sure there are no negative results. Will you be all right for a while?"

Tobias smiled. "I haven't had a hot date in years. I don't intend to go looking for one now."

Jennifer nodded, feeling no mirth in the doctor's comment. She did not smile, only nodded her understanding, and returned to the data console. The silence of the lab was heavy. Cold air swirled from the vent in the corner, rustling light objects below the output. The sheets that covered the corpses seemed to dance in a ballet, influenced by the same source of inspiration.

She concentrated on the flow of data on the screen as the checksums churned through the data, verifying that everything had gone as planned. Jennifer reexamined the protocol Tobias had given her. There was a certain allowable margin of error that was permitted in the checksums. So far, it had not been utilized to any degree. Tobias's program had been perfect, each micron of insertion anticipated and calculated to a degree that had never before been achieved. The progress of the checksum was intriguing to watch, a learning experience Jennifer had not imagined she would receive in her time at Alaceda. Calculations flashed into her brain, forming a coherent avenue of research and progress. The code was so logically pieced together that she imagined the probe entering her brain and successfully finding its mark without harm.

The console chimed its completion. Jennifer's concentration was broken by what sounded like a jangling in her head, she was so engrossed in the data.

"Well?" Tobias called from across the room.

"The checksum is finished," Jennifer reported.

"And?" Tobias prompted, sounding ever the slightest bit on edge.

Jennifer confirmed the results once more for good measure. "Zero defects, Doctor Tobias. The implant was a success. The outer sheath is stable."

She watched as Tobias closed her eyes, as if in relief. When she opened them again, she motioned with a hand to Jennifer.

"Get these restraints off me."

"Are you certain it's safe to move?"

"The probe is secure. This is the whole point of this," Tobias said. "Come."

Jennifer did as ordered, removing the restraints from Tobias's head. The doctor carefully sat up on the gurney, with Jennifer's help to steady her. Almost at once, Tobias gripped the edge of the table.

"Whoa," she breathed. "Head rush."

"What?" Jennifer asked, confused.

"Dizziness," Tobias explained, distracted. "I wasn't sure how all this would effect my equilibrium. Congratulations, Jennifer – we've just encountered our first side effect."

Jennifer's chagrined thoughts sped to her first days at Alaceda, when she had vomited in front of her superior.

"What about the medication you gave me?" she asked.

Tobias closed her eyes again against the imbalance her brain could not negotiate. "Fine idea. Do you remember where it is?"

"Yes, in the main lab."

"Go get it. Same dosage I gave you," Tobias said, under duress.

Jennifer helped Tobias lay flat again, careful to keep the thin filament connection to the probe undisturbed. She rushed into the lab, going straight to the cabinet where Tobias kept a collection of drug therapies and other medicinal items. She had watched the doctor enter the cabinet over numerous days to retrieve the medication. Now, their roles were reversed.

When she returned to the lab, she found Tobias with an arm draped over her eyes and swallowing hard against the discomfort.

"I have it, Doctor."

"And not a moment too soon," Tobias said, breathing out hard as a way to contain the convulsions in her stomach muscles. "Dose me up."

Jennifer inserted a vial of the vertigo medication into the device on Tobias's neck. It took a few moments for the effects to take hold, but the doctor's shoulders suddenly relaxed in relief. She took a deep breath, as if finally able to stand the effect of expansion on her torso without any ill effects.

"That's better," Tobias said, opening her eyes. She took a moment to compose herself. "Let's try this again."

Once more, Jennifer helped Tobias into an upright position. This time, it was much better.

Tobias stared at the floor in contemplation. "I could have sworn I saw the data stream when we first connected." She looked at Jennifer. "Did I? I'm a bit fuzzy on the details of our initial connection attempt."

"I don't know," Jennifer said honestly. "Ian sedated you before I could confirm anything. I turned off the connection while you slept just in case. There are some things we'll have to check before I can be certain you saw anything at all."

She patted Jennifer on the shoulder. "Such a good little scientist you're going to grow up to be. Always doubting, always questioning. Your Lord Dread grew you well."

Jennifer was caught off guard. "What?"

"Never mind," Tobias said, dismissing the comment. "Let's proceed with a test connection, shall we?"

Jennifer sensed the subject was closed as soon as it was opened. She wanted to pursue such comments when Tobias made them, but she had quickly learned they were not things to be questioned, lest she get a lecture or answers she did not want to hear.

"May I suggest you lay back down, Doctor? There were complications with the first connection."

"Oh?" Tobias said, truly curious. "What happened?"

"I don't understand the medical data entirely, but you appeared to have a seizure."

Tobias was pensive. "Yes, I seemed to remember throwing a response to that possibility in the protocol. Ian did well to sedate me, then."

"He performed well," Jennifer complimented, truly meaning it in retrospect. She would not mention any of the events that followed, though – not unless it became necessary.

"Not bad for someone scheduled for termination," Tobias said sadly.

The words were like ice in Jennifer's ears, painful and jolting. She pushed away her internal response, pushing away the effect as she had been trained to do.

"Should I call for him before we reconnect? Your cardiac rhythms were unstable during the seizure."

"All expected," Tobias said confidently. "It should be better this time. My body has had time to adjust to the interface. I'm not anticipating the same response this time. But," she added, "I will take your advice to get on my back before we do this."

Tobias did as promised and lay back on the gurney. Jennifer walked over to the data console and sat down in the chair, pulling herself close to the table where she could view all the data at once.

The initiation process was simple. With one command, the connection would be made, and the fruits of all their research would fully come to life. Jennifer's anticipation was acute, cutting her senses like a knife. She looked over to make sure Tobias was ready and in no danger of falling to the floor. Tobias was on her side, watching Jennifer, waiting.

Doctor Tobias gave a simple nod. With that, Jennifer made the connection.

Tobias flinched sharply and emitted a low, controlled grunt as the data streaked through the connection to her brain tissue. Her eyes snapped closed as electrical impulses once again introduced themselves to her body. Her jaw was tight, her hands clenched, as the negotiation proceeded.

Jennifer kept a close eye on the medical console. Her fears were alleviated slightly when she recognized this session was not taking as big a toll on the doctor's body. The vital signs that had been so heavily bombarded in the initial connection were much calmer, even though they were still elevated. Everything was within acceptable limits. Her attention spanned between the medical console and the progress of the connection negotiation. The return data was good, if not above what had been expected. Jennifer looked to Tobias again. The doctor had begun to calm as it all normalized. The medical console reflected the results.

Jennifer returned to Tobias's side, carefully avoiding the connection filament. To disturb it would have been disastrous and deadly at that point, when the brain was fully engulfed with signals from the test environment. She reached out and felt for a pulse in the doctor's wrist, finding a strong one that was no longer racing.

Tobias opened her eyes, but they were unseeing, just as they had been during the first connection.

"Wow," Tobias breathed.

"Are you all right?" Jennifer asked.

"It wasn't a dream," Tobias said with wonderment. "I did see it." She broke into a small grin, her eyes darting side to side as if unable to concentrate on one point. "I did see it," she said again.

"What do you see?" Jennifer asked, her excitement at their success mounting.

"Watch the console," Tobias said, blindly pointing at the mobile cart where the filament fed into the console.

At once, the monitor on the cart lit up with streaming lines of data. At first, the stream was moving so fast that Jennifer could not read anything but a few characters of syntax, none of which made any sense. Then it all changed.

The lines of green data congealed into shapes. Wireframe objects appeared in a panorama of of simple shapes. Tobias raised her hand, reaching out toward them. In kind, a wireframe representation of the motion appeared on the screen. She turned her hand to view the palm, and the action was mimicked in the data, much to the unabashed delight of both women.

Jennifer found herself smiling broadly as she witnessed history. Tobias was giddy, giving an uncharacteristic giggle as she maneuvered in the test environment.

"I didn't realize you would have this much control," Jennifer said in amazement.

"Neither did I," Tobias admitted, smiling. "I can hardly describe this. I can feel the air in the lab, but there's also a sort of atmosphere in here. I can feel things that aren't there."

Jennifer watched Tobias's rapid eye movement. She brought her hand up and waved it in front of the doctor's eyes. She received no response to the action, confirming that Tobias was seeing only the data stream and not anything in the real world. In that moment, Jennifer realized the doctor's eyes were beginning to brim with tears. At first, she assumed Tobias was in pain. Then, she realized it was something more. It was the end of a long road of research, one that had been a series of ups and downs Jennifer could never have imagined, despite all she had been taught in the Dread Youth.

The shapes on the screen moved closer, and Tobias's hand lowered to the gurney. The wireframe model of the appendage disappeared, and only the simulated objects were displayed. Tobias moved toward a small cylinder in the virtual world until she was close enough to touch one. Her hand reached out in the real world and was mimicked on the screen. Her fingers curled around the simulated object. Jennifer watched as the simulated hand closed over the cylinder and held on tightly to it. Real world observation showed Tobias's fingers stopping short of closing entirely, as if the cylinder were preventing the action. She turned her wrist, rotating the item. Her eyes looked at it, examining it.

"I had no idea it would be like this," Tobias breathed. Her emotion caught in her throat as years of research were realized in a single moment. "No idea," she said.

Jennifer smiled, awed to have been a part of that crucial moment in history. Tobias had crossed over, had done what no other scientist had ever accomplished. She had witnessed history, and in that moment, she realized she had earned her front row seat to the event. All her dedication in the Dread Youth had paid off in that one instant. She was seeing what they would read about later on in their lessons. It did not matter if her name was listed as an assistant. It was not her place to take such credit. It was enough to know she had been a part of the crucial process, had been personally selected by Lord Dread to witness the historic point when the human brain had been mated with a machine.

The first step of Lord Dread's vision of the New Order had been fulfilled, and Jennifer was the first of the Dread Youth to step into his new world.


	14. Chapter 14

**Wowee, it's been a while since I've taken a crack at finishing this chapter! It's been half-written for a while, but we'll see how the rest goes from here! As always, no one has edited this sucker but me, so please point out my mistakes. Reviews are a welcome sight to me, good or bad! Thanks for reading! **

**Chapter 14**

Three days passed with constant testing of the new environment and the stability of the probe. Each morning, Tobias would enter the virtual world, claiming it and owning it. Jennifer watched in complete fascination, realizing Doctor Tobias's knowledge and insight were superior and understated in the Youth Corps texts. Lord Dread had granted the privilege of being there for those historical moments to a shining Youth cadet. He was wise, more so than even Doctor Tobias. His judgment was infallible and perfect to allow a cadet to be a part of such a momentous occasion. It would only bolster the beliefs and vigor of the Corps and its dedication to Lord Dread, if she had anything to say about it.

Jennifer arrived at the probe lab early, wanting to test new safety algorithms before Tobias started the day's routines. The corruption of the original program was bothersome, but Jennifer had lain awake at night, contemplating measures to prevent it from ever happening again. She was sure she had discovered the simplest method, which was to biometrically encode the security protocols to the data. It would no longer be a file sitting out in the open in Alaceda's databases to be accessed from the outside and altered. It could be placed in its own container, away from the main core. That way, there would be no chance of infiltration from rebels.

She felt she was closing in on the source of infiltration. To be able to report the source and bring the rebels to justice would be another accolade for the cadet. Perhaps she might even convince Doctor Tobias to use the newfound resource of the probe project to speed up the investigation. It was one thing to type commands into a console or to speak a query. It was another move at the speed of thought, which the good doctor was now capable of doing with great agility.

Then she considered that Doctor Tobias would have little time to assist a lowly cadet in tasks beneath a great mind. Jennifer had been tapped to look at the code and determine its integrity. She had already dissected thousands of lines, getting hints here and there of anomalies but finding no solid culprit for the corrupted files. She felt she was getting closer to the answer, though. Each night, she had carefully marked her progress, documenting her suspicions and extrapolating each and every possibility as to how rebels could have infiltrated a secure computer system. Whoever had altered the data had been highly skilled, concealing each alteration's point of origin so skillfully it might have been missed had the cadet not been so diligent in the first place. Doctor Tobias would have been killed had the corrupted code been used. It would have been a major victory for the rebels and a deep blow for Lord Dread's empire.

The probe lab's computers were in ample supply, allowing Jennifer to run multiple queries at separate stations. She was able to set each one to examine a certain section of data and compare the findings to the other computers in the group. She had taken the liberty of bringing a morning meal with her so as not to interrupt her train of research once she had begun. In her off time the previous night, she had an idea to create a search pattern unlike any she had run in her prior queries. She had been looking at the code line by line instead of as a whole for signs of origin. Each line appeared to be a dead end, running her in circles. There were endless possibilities if she examined each in depth. Instead, she decided to see what all the lines had in common. The new approach seemed painfully obvious once she thought about it, causing her to mentally punish herself for not thinking of it sooner. Each line may have contained different origination points, but all of the corrupted lines should have at least one commonality that would point to the infiltrator's location.

Jennifer inserted an information pod into the slot of one of the console that contained her new search algorithm. She granted it access to the original corrupted data and set it to work. Almost immediately, it found common strings in at least seven lines of data.

She began paging through the new information produced by her program. At first, the data was the same as the first time she looked, but then she began seeing new portions of altered code, pieces previously hidden from her view by skilled masking techniques. It was akin to peeling an onion and finding new layers. One by one, each layer was stripped away, revealing the steps taken by the infiltrator to sabotage the project. It became more and more complex as she delved into it, until she felt a nagging fear building. There was something wrong with the complexity of the masks. They were so precise and intimately targeted. The infiltrator did not waste time chasing red herrings that had been intentionally placed in the code as safety measures, bait as a means to lead a programmer down the wrong path into harmless data that would not endanger the actual working code. Instead, she found that the program had been altered with pinpoint accuracy. That created a problem. In order to do that, Jennifer knew, the infiltrator needed to have exclusive access to the code. The only way into the code for that length of time required to insert the changes was to be ensconced in the base, with unlimited access. Jennifer's eyes closed.

There was a traitor among them.

Her mind immediately focused on Ian, but she dismissed him as a possibility. He was a savant, autistic and brilliant but hardly the calculating type. He was vehemently protective of Doctor Tobias, who would have suffered greatly and perhaps died had the code been used. His loyalty to her was unquestionable. What his loyalty was to Lord Dread was something else entirely.

Jennifer tried to focus on others at the base, but she had not made it a point to even learn names. She had hit the ground running with the research assignment and had not absorbed the identities of anyone who kept the facility running. She silently chastised herself for not being hyper vigilant of her surroundings. It never occurred to her to consider an enemy within the walls of Alaceda. Even her assignment from Lord Dread to observe Doctor Tobias for inconsistencies had been strange. It was hard to determine exactly who should have been considered a suspect.

"You shouldn't sit so close to the screen. The eyes are always the first thing to go."

Jennifer whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Doctor Tobias stood behind her, robe wrapped tightly for warmth. The metallic plate on the doctor's head caught the glint of the overhead lights, as if a beacon of technology.

"What are you doing?" Tobias asked, sitting down in the seat next to the cadet.

Another challenge question, it seemed. "I was reviewing the corrupted code."

Tobias inspected the data on the screen. "We're in the midst of groundbreaking research, and yet you manage to find the time to rehash the past?"

Jennifer did not like the implication that she was subtracting time from the project. "I've been reviewing it on my own time, Doctor," she said, the words tumbling out more tersely than she had intended.

Tobias looked at Jennifer and raised an eyebrow at the harsher tone. "At ease, cadet. I wasn't accusing you," she said. "I was complimenting you."

"Oh," Jennifer replied in a voice so small it would have been an embarrassment to the Youth. She felt like shrinking into a crack in the tiled floor of the lab.

Doctor Tobias seemed to enjoy the moment much more than she should have, as if taking pleasure in knocking the cadet down another peg. Then she softened, letting the moment pass.

"What have you found?"

Jennifer quickly regained her composure, mentally numbing the sting of the event. She turned to the console, glad for any reason to break eye contact with her superior.

"I believe we have a larger problem than we first suspected."

"Explain."

A bit of frustration crept into Jennifer's voice as she called up examples of the research. "Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. All the failsafe devices and distractions in the code were ignored. It was a straight line to the data where it was altered."

"That would suggest an inside job," Tobias said plainly, seemingly calm about the whole idea.

"It seems likely," Jennifer answered, feeling herself stepping onto unsteady ground with Doctor Tobias.

Tobias leaned back in her chair, taking a healthy breath and letting it out slowly. She eyed the data on the screen. "It's a good thing you caught that then, Youth Leader Chase. This would have certainly brought a premature end to our little experiment."

That was her only response. It sounded as though the incident had reached a simple conclusion.

"That's it?" Jennifer queried, slightly disbelieving.

Tobias looked at her and shrugged her shoulders. "What would you like me to say? Want a shiny medal for your efforts? You already have quite a collection going. You don't need another one."

Jennifer felt her back bristle at the insult. Hard work had always been rewarded. That was the way Lord Dread had fashioned the empire. Here, his most trusted scientist – a woman who had furthered his vision more than anyone in its revered history – sat nonplussed at the turn of events. The doctor was certainly not impressed by the cadet's efforts.

"I wasn't seeking a compliment, Doctor Tobias," Jennifer braved, defending herself to a superior.

"No?" Tobias challenged. "Then why are you upset that I'm not giving it more energy than it deserves?"

"The corrupted code could have killed you. Doesn't that bother you?"

"No," Tobias said, crossing her arms in front of her. "If it killed me, then I wouldn't have to be locked in this hellhole anymore, would I? And I certainly wouldn't need to push the limits of humanity for someone who's afraid to do the dirty work himself."

There was no doubt Doctor Tobias was speaking of their lord. It was Jennifer's duty to uphold the virtues of the empire, even in the face of authority.

"Lord Dread's vision is clean and perfect," she responded sharply. "None of us – not even you – should question it." The thrill of challenging authority swept through her as she spoke the words.

"That's right," Tobias said in a patronizing tone, "clean and perfect. Blonde hair," she said, reaching out and flicking a lock of Jennifer's hair, "and blue eyes. It's amazing that all his top prospects look a lot alike, isn't it? Did you ever wonder about that?"

"We are a product of his image."

"The hell you are." She gave a scoff at the notion.

"Who are you to doubt our lord's vision?" Jennifer felt her emotions boil unlike any other time in her life. She had never heard anyone be so insolent toward their supreme leader, and with such audacity.

"Vision?" Tobias asked, mocking. "You want to see vision? I'll show you vision."

She stood quickly and grabbed Jennifer by the arm, nearly yanking her from the chair. She pushed the cadet out of the lab and into the hall where they began at a fast clip down corridor after corridor. Jennifer did not like being touched, and Tobias' grip on her arm felt like ice as she was pulled toward an unknown destination. Even overunits did not have contact with cadets like that.

Tobias did not lecture during the journey. She pulled Jennifer along the corridor until they arrived at an area secured by two mechs. They came to attention in regard to Tobias.

"Open it," she ordered the one on the right.

The mech turned and dutifully complied. The doorway split in two as the panels receded into the wall. Tobias practically pushed Jennifer through the threshold into the room beyond the entrance.

It was a large control room. The consoles were sophisticated, much more advanced than anything Jennifer had seen in all the empire. The room turned to the right. When she looked toward the other end, she saw large viewing windows looking out into a vast storage area of vertical tube-shaped containers. It was difficult to see their contents until Tobias urged her forward to the windows.

The contents of the tubes began to take shape. First, she saw a hand, then hair on a head. There were bodies – hundreds of them in various stages of growth, their naked forms obscured by a thin layer of frost covering the outside of the containers. Some were infants, others adolescents. All had some deformity, except for a rare few who looked like what could pass for normal. Something had gone wrong in the infants especially that that made them unviable or imperfect, especially according to the standards of the empire. Either way, they were disgusting, leaving Jennifer at a loss for words, her previous bravado gone.

"This is vision, or at least his idea of one," Tobias said grimly, her voice quiet and almost reverent of the visages before them. "These were all the failures. They didn't fit his idea of what he needed. So, he kept making more until…"

For the first time since Jennifer had met her, Doctor Tobias seemed to struggle with what to say.

"Until what?" Jennifer pressed.

Tobias looked at her, eyes piercing. "Until he created the likes of you," she said, as though she were the one seeking forgiveness.

Jennifer felt a cold spear of shock run through her body, an assault of information unlike any other she had ever experienced. "That's not true," Jennifer protested, not caring that her courage had vanished. She felt like a child, afraid.

"Yes," Tobias said, "it is." Her ire was completely gone. Now, her eyes conveyed passion at the revelation, as if she understood what effect her words had on the young woman, and as if they were equally as hard to say.

Jennifer looked out at the farm again, her heart pounding, feeling as though the air in the control room had suddenly become thin and in short supply.

"We have birth parents," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're patriots of the cause."

Tobias looked down, as if to avoid the site of the farm, the face of the most brilliant mind in science falling.

"You have a genetic map," Tobias said. "Recessive genes surface during embryonic development that give you individuality as far as your appearance. That was something he didn't have time to control. In the grand scheme, it didn't matter." She looked at the cadet again. "He figured out how to make supersmart kids. You were among the seventh crop harvested."

Jennifer shook her head. "That's a lie," she said quietly, feeling her emotions building uncontrollably.

"I wish it were," Tobias said. "I don't have a reason to lie to you about this."

"You constantly undermine our lord's vision for the future. You have every reason to lie," she said, knowing it was a weak response.

"Is that what you've told him?"

The cadet felt cornered. She had come close to telling Lord Dread that she felt Doctor Tobias was a liability to the cause, but she had refrained up to that point due to her own indecision.

"No," she said, "not yet. I haven't found proof that you've done anything wrong."

Tobias smiled sadly. "How lucky for me."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Jennifer asked desperately. She felt like a caged rat.

Tobias rubbed at eyes that suddenly looked so tired. Her head tilted downward. The overhead lights in the control room caught on the plate rooted in her skull, glinted briefly like a tiny beacon of progress. It sent a wave of contemplation through Jennifer to see that the good doctor had used herself as a test subject instead of a captured rebel.

The doctor looked up at her after a moment. "I'm doing this because I want you to see all the facts and decide for yourself about your Lord Dread's 'vision'," she said, making tiny quotation marks with her fingers. She nodded out toward the farm. "That's been a very big part of that vision. He's spun some stories to go along with it, such as you having parents."

"He must have had his reasons," Jennifer defended.

Tobias chuckled. "Oh, he's got a lot of those," she said, pulling her robes tightly around her torso. "It's to keep you in line, Jennifer. He creates the world in which you live, and you're none the wiser for the truth."

Jennifer surveyed the farm again, feeling nauseous at the sight of the deformed and imperfect bodies, with their protruding teeth and grotesque limbs.

"I wish to leave."

"Me, too," Tobias said with a nod. "Gives me the willies to look at it."

"The what?"

"Never mind." She led Jennifer from the room with a gentle hand.

The doors to the control room slid closed and locked with a distinctive latching sound. The guard mechs returned to their duty of protecting its contents. Tobias and Jennifer walked away from the room at a much slower pace than they had arrived.

"You're dismissed for the day," Tobias said. "We'll start fresh tomorrow."

For once, Jennifer did not argue. She nodded assent and remained silent. Her trek to her quarters was disturbing. She had an urge to leave Alaceda and return to her cadre, leaving behind all she had been privileged to do for Lord Dread. Her mind raced with the possible repercussions for not completing the assignment given specifically to her by Lord Dread. More importantly, what if he asked about Doctor Tobias's actions? She could not lie, but she had also omitted some facts as they were, making a decision to find more of the truth before reporting an inaccuracy.

She wondered why Doctor Tobias had shown her the body farm at all. It served no real purpose except maybe to shock. Perhaps it was a counterstrike on the doctor's part to undermine Lord Dread's authority. Jennifer could not deny the possibility. The doctor's disdain for their leader was seldom hidden.

Jennifer opened the doors to her quarters. Immediately, her eyes strayed to Mercury's cage. She felt as though she had been neglecting part of her assignment with the rodent. She sat down at her desk and peered into the cage. Mercury mimicked her, standing on its hind legs with its tiny hands pressed against the enclosure. As on other days, it sought her when it knew she had returned. Though she would never admit it to anyone, Jennifer enjoyed the rat's expectation of her return. It did not ask her questions or require her to explain any actions. She did not even feel it was a matter that Mercury associated her with a supply of food. It wanted to see her and share companionship.

The feel of the rat's tiny paws on her neck sent an unstoppable shiver through her that was not unpleasant. It felt safe and comforting. It nestled into her neck, climbing until it found balance on her shoulder. It investigated her earlobe, whiskers skimming her skin. She involuntarily craned against it, finding herself smiling at the sensation. Mercury seemed content to keep doing it, its long tail draped down her collar. The rat was oblivious to the events at Alaceda, not knowing it had been a tiny part of history and turmoil. It certainly did not know of the body farm, on display behind secured doors on the other side of the facility. It had one mission, and that was to get as close to Jennifer as it could and make contact.

The console chimed. Without even looking, she knew it would be Lord Dread calling for a report. If she could have avoided it, she would have, but her racing heart directed her body to put Mercury back in its habitat and answer the call.

His face filled the screen, seeming larger than it had any other time she had spoken with him.

"My lord," she greeted in a forced perfunctory tone. Images of the body farm flooded her mind.

"Report."

"Doctor Tobias is making great progress, though there is still much work to be done."

"When will she be ready to test the device on a live subject?"

"I believe you should ask Doctor Tobias that, my lord. I am not in a position to judge…"

"_When_?"

She hesitated only a second, but it felt like a lifetime in the piercing stare of her lord. She had no idea if he was even aware that the device had already been tested on the good doctor, herself.

"Soon, I would think," she said, her pulse pounded in her temples. "Her own implantation is moving forward with great progress."

"Yes," Lord Dread said with disdain. There was a slight tick in his human eye, as though his senses were being assaulted. "There is that. No matter, I want to see progress toward mass introduction of the rebel population. I want a timeline of implantation by the end today. Is that understood?"

"Understood, my lord," she said. Her posture involuntarily straightened with the order. "I will inform Doctor Tobias as soon as possible."

"You'll inform her immediately," Lord Dread corrected, his tone iced and direct. He wanted what he wanted at that moment.

"As you wish," she said, finding his insistence distasteful, unlike she ever had in her Youth career.

"And what of her loyalty to me?"

Lord Dread's question was so direct that it sent a cold chill through Jennifer's bones. "Her loyalty, my lord?"

Lord Dread retrieved a data pad and began reviewing information on it. His momentary silence seemed to last a lifetime. Then he looked at her again.

"There are some discrepancies in her work that require explanation."

"If you can be more specific, I …"

"I can be completely specific, Youth Leader Chase," he said abruptly, hammering her into silence. "There is a matter of missing rebel bodies."

"My apologies, but I do not understand."

Lord Dread set the data pad on the arm of his chair. "Overunit Balash has uncovered some administrative discrepancies within the Alaceda facility. The record of disposal of test subjects is incomplete. Are you aware this?"

She was more than aware of it. She had noticed what Overunit Balash had found long before any of them in Volcania knew to look. If Lord Dread was questioning it, it could only mean that the bodies were missing, which automatically led to suspicion of foul play. Conspiring with rebels was punishable by death.

It was for that reason she lied outright to the supreme commander of the empire.

"I was not, my lord. I have not had reason to investigate such records."

"Well," he said, his voice slow and deliberate, "now you do. A new batch of test subjects is scheduled to arrive in a day. You are to personally see to their disposition in the reclamation facility at Alaceda. You will give me a complete report."

He cut the transmission to the console so abruptly that it seemed as though part of her psyche had been severed. Her body flinched as the screen went blank. It was not that Jennifer sought warmth from her leader, but courtesy was certainly part of the protocol hammered home to each and every cadet from the very first day of academy training. In that moment, though, it barreled into her at lightning speed that the rule applied less and less the higher the position in the empire. It certainly ceased to exist when she was addressed by Lord Dread.

Mercury edged out of its box inside the enclosure on her desk. It seemed to take cover when Lord Dread's transmissions were in progress, seemingly aware that its mere presence would get Jennifer in trouble. It stayed out of sight until the empire's supreme leader was finished. Then, the rat would seek her out, standing on its hind legs in the enclosure until she picked it up and held it. The animal was a source of comfort, though Jennifer still loathed the idea to admit it anyone but herself. The rat, however, was no fool. It knew its place in her life and anticipated her companionship every night. She did, too.

The rat's effect on her was strange. It seemed to comfort her even more when she had a difficult day. Perhaps it could sense the tension in her muscles or the tone of her voice. It seemed to curl into her more snugly, as if to emphasize that it passed no judgment, made no qualifications about her actions or accomplishments. It simply enjoyed her for … her. It was that simple. There was no complicated equation to its loyalty. Yes, it was a lower life form, but it still possessed intelligence. It knew how to find food, and it could sense the finer details of a situation with great accuracy. In the end, Mercury was there to share in the camaraderie of the end of the day, when work was done and sleep approached. It was unconditionally loyal to her and even anticipated her arrival each evening.

She held Mercury in front of her, examining its physique. Its perfect paws with tiny finger-like appendages wrapped around her hand. Jennifer peered closely at the paws and wondered that such fine details were accomplished without flaw. Her mind strayed back to the body farm and the image of the failures suspended in tubes. Her stomach turned slightly at the memory. There was nothing pleasant in any of the tubes. Each contained human flesh that had lost its way during development, creating monsters in the wake of creation. The bodies were monster-like in their imperfections. She had to continually remind herself that they were inert and unable to escape their permanent resting places. For that, she was grateful.

She gently placed Mercury in the enclosure, much to the rat's dislike.

"I'll be back," she promised, not feeling at all foolish that she was talking to a rodent. This one, after all, was the exception to the general population and deserved special treatment and consideration.

She entered the hall and proceeded toward Doctor Tobias's lab once more. Why, she could not pinpoint. Part of her wanted to directly confront the doctor about Lord Dread's accusation of impropriety. That part was stronger than she dare admit. She found it hard to reconcile her loyalty to Lord Dread and yet an equal oath to a woman who seemed to be out to get the cadet at every turn. The difference was that Tobias seemed to embed a lesson with each ambush while others within the empire hoped to trip up the Youth Corps' most promising student at every turn. Both sides were enemies to some degree. Yet, both presented an opportunity for the cadet to improve herself and her skills. There was no easy choice in the matter.

The door to the lab was wide open, which immediately struck her as odd. She stepped over the threshold and found the doctor at her desk with the mobile probe unit at her side. The thin wire ran from the probe into the console, feeding terabytes of information each second. Small movement to the left caught Jennifer's eye. Only then did she realize Mason and Dixon were in the room, standing at attention like sentries near the doctor's desk.

Tobias's eyes were closed as she navigated the stream of data on the console. Jennifer had no idea what the stream was, but it had the doctor's full attention. She was oblivious to the cadet's presence, or so she thought, until Tobias seemed to look at her.

"I believe I dismissed you for the day, cadet," Tobias said flatly, her eyes unfocused and moving frantically as the data stream progressed.

Jennifer thought quickly, realizing the doctor was concentrating more on the data than the human intruder in the lab. "I've been assigned research by our lord. The connection to the databases is much faster in the lab."

"Research elsewhere. I'm busy," she said tersely, a complete reversal of her compassionate self in the body farm.

"I'm under direct orders," Jennifer said, causing the doctor to send the probe unit into standby mode with such ferocity that it startled the young woman.

"I'm aware of your assignment, cadet," Tobias said coldly. For the first time, there was anger in her voice. She pulled the probe from the port in her head and placed it on the cart. She stood and took a few steps toward Jennifer until they were only a foot apart from one another. "If you want to waste time, be my guest. But you won't be doing it in here. I won't have you jeopardizing this project at such a fragile stage. In fact," she said, "consider yourself on reclamation detail, if it's that important to your lord how I dispose of garbage."

"You were listening to the communication?" Jennifer interrogated, feeling a cold rush of shock, as if she had been caught doing something illegal.

"Every word, just like I've watched your every step since you came to Alaceda."

"If that's true," Jennifer said, summoning every ounce of courage she had to confront the doctor, "then you also know I accessed the reclamation files long before Lord Dread thought them a problem."

"The only reason he decided they were a problem was that he was watching you, as well," Tobias said, her voice rising sharply in volume. She was angry, her face turning a darker shade unlike Jennifer had ever seen exhibited in the empire's most brilliant scientific mind. "You're his snitch, his little spy, and you certainly haven't disappointed, have you?"

"I could have turned you in!" Jennifer shouted, cutting off the doctor's tirade.

It seemed to work, for Tobias paused, calculating the cadet. "But you didn't," she said more calmly. "You could have been his little hero. Why didn't you?"

"I…" There were a million reasons why she should have told Lord Dread of all she knew and had seen, but all those were outweighed by one single notion. "I want to know why. Why didn't those orders get processed in reclamation like they should? It's an automated action, and the only way it wouldn't go through is if it was told not to do it."

Doctor Tobias's piercing blue eyes cut through Jennifer like a knife. "You already know the answer," she said frankly.

Images of the rebel in the container in the back of the cargo ship flooded Jennifer's mind. The pieces finally fell in place, stunning her that she did not see it so clearly any sooner than she had.

"How many have you smuggled out?" she solicited, though the answer was moot. What Doctor Tobias had done was a death sentence.

Tobias leaned against the edge of a nearby lab table. She pulled her robes tightly around her, seeming to calm now that the truth had been revealed. "The numbers don't matter," she said, as if reading the cadet's mind. "The real question is, what are you going to do now that you know?"

Jennifer shook her head with disbelief. "What do you want me to say – that I won't report you to Lord Dread and that you're a hero to the people?"

Tobias cocked a looked at Jennifer and smiled prettily. "Somehow, I don't think that's going to happen."

"You're damned right it's not!" she said, swearing for the first time ever in her life. "I know where my loyalties rest, Doctor. I'm a future officer of this empire. I have a duty to uphold."

"A duty to what – terrorizing innocent civilians?" Tobias scoffed. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Those people you see as criminals have done nothing wrong except try to survive in the wake of global disaster. Your Lord Dread drives it home that they're enemies, but they're not," she said. "They're no different than you or me."

"Oh, they're very different," Jennifer countered, feeling her training kick into gear. Her disdain for the rebels bubbled to the surface with raging energy. "They're imperfect and filthy."

"Like those monsters in the body farm?" the doctor challenged, "with their deformities they had no control over? Like those with lesser intellect, like Ian?"

"Yes!" Jennifer shouted, rebelling in her own way against the doctor. "They should all be cleansed from this planet, even Ian! Why can't you accept Lord Dread's vision?" she asked sharply.

"Because Ian is my son!"

The words bounced off the walls of the lab like shards of glass against rock. Tobias stood there, locked in the moment with Jennifer. She looked as though she had committed a crime with the confession. Guilt seemed to wash over her entire being, siphoning energy from her muscles. Then she dropped down into a chair, as if all the will to continue the fight had left her.

Jennifer felt the air leave her lungs at the doctor's revelation. She could only stand there and wait for Tobias to tell her how that happened. Jennifer saw the older woman's chin quiver as she recalled Ian's history.

"He was a fifth generation harvest, the last harvest to include any of my genetic material," she said, sounding weary of having to keep the secret for so long. "Four generations of children before him were nothing more than discarded human flesh to Lyman Taggart. Four generations of children – _my_ children.

"There were other genetic contributors, of course," she said, devouring her torso in her robes. The desperation and regret in her voice matched the same in her eyes. "Lyman made sure he took what he needed to make the best generation of soldiers. But he wasn't good enough to complete the process. He kept failing, leaving a trail much like what you saw today."

"But you knew how to make it work," Jennifer supplied, humbled a bit by the story unfolding before her.

"I have always been very good at what I do," Tobias said in a confessor's tone, "and I was good enough to remove my genetic material from the sixth harvest. I couldn't let myself be a part of that madness anymore. I had already been a part of so much that had gone wrong, and it wasn't just with the genetic experiments.

"He was none the wiser that I had removed myself until later testing, when he found that my gene pattern was missing. All he knew at the time, when those babies were ready, was that there were ten fingers and ten toes on each product, and their IQ ratings were off the scale."

She looked at Jennifer. "But I knew. And I knew that a part of me had made Ian. He was normal enough when he was conceived, but early testing showed something had gone wrong. The thing was," she said with a small, ironic laugh, "what he lacked in the ability to speak, he more than made up for in love and innocence." Her sight drifted off in a kind of reverie and her voice lowered to just above a whisper. "He was this tiny beacon of light in a very, very dark world."

Jennifer braved a question. "Why wasn't he discarded with the others?"

Tobias focused again. "I told Lyman that I wanted to experiment on Ian, to find out what went wrong. That wasn't the real reason, though, and Lyman knew it. He had me over a barrel. So, he struck a bargain with me. I'd get to keep Ian as long as I continued my development work for the empire."

Jennifer pulled over a chair and sat down in it. Every muscle felt overworked, tired. "Apparently, you kept up your end. The empire is doing well."

"One day, I didn't produce a project fast enough for him. He took Ian into custody and headed him toward the termination chambers."

Tobias smiled broadly, but it was not for joy. "But he never made it there, because I can think on my feet. I've always been able to do that. I lied my way into getting Ian back by telling Lyman that he was vital to completing the latest project. In a small truth, Ian was. He was an extra hand in the lab I could control. I would have clawed through concrete to get him back, which is why I promised your precious lord I'd keep working those projects as long as Ian remained safe. The only problem was and always has been that I'm not sure how long I can keep this up."

Jennifer felt desperation. "You can't expect me to help you."

"No, but I can try to open your mind," Doctor Tobias said. "I've been able to undermine every other 'assistant' he's sent here, until now. You're the linchpin he's been waiting for all these years. You're smart, and inquisitive, and you'll eventually figure out all that I'm doing."

"So, you preempt me and lay it all out, hoping I'll see the light?"

"In a perfect world, yes. But this world is far from perfect. So, the best I can do is tell you to do the math."

"The math, Doctor?"

"You sat up all night and went through thousands of lines of code, finding all the anomalies. Then you practically break down the door to get me to stop the procedure. Why? Because you value life."

"That's different," Jennifer argued.

"No, it's not," Tobias said, shaking her head. "If anything, my life is worth less than those wretched rebels the empire is so driven to get rid of, because I have caused so much pain to them with my work. Right now Dread's scrambling their brains with that NP1A4 unit with great success. And trust me - I made it well. God be with anyone who get subjected to it."

"I can't keep this from him. I'm bound by an oath," Jennifer said, knowing it would have little effect in swaying the doctor's opinion.

"You're bound by science, Jennifer. Science is logic and reason. It is pure a truth. Logic and reason say that what he is doing is madness. You have to do the math and think for yourself. Make your own decision about that."

"And what if I decide to tell Lord Dread all that I know?" Jennifer challenged.

"Then," Tobias said in a sigh, "I'll meet the fate I've been dodging for so many years, and you'll get a shiny new medal for your collection. Hell, he may even make you an adjutant. Won't that be grand?"

Jennifer could not have cared less about a commendation. There was a larger concern at the fore of her mind.

"Lord Dread is sending a load of implantation subjects tomorrow. What will you do?"

Tobias shrugged. "The same thing I've done with every other batch he's sent me – smuggle them out. They'll fail in their experiment, and I'll have Mason and Dixon cart them off to reclamation, where they'll be released to waiting rebels. They'll take them to a safe house. I think the real question is – what will you do?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Jennifer sat at her desk, staring down at her exceedingly late evening meal, devoid of any intention of eating. It had been almost useless to even prepare it. Her stomach felt uneasy, and the only reason she had ordered it was a matter of discipline. She expected that Lord Dread would call for an update at any moment, but the communications system had remained quiet for the evening. The only sound came from Mercury's ramblings amid the myriad of old equipment casings Jennifer had placed in its habitat. She had gone so far as to interconnect them so the rat had a veritable city all to itself. There was no reason to do so, except that she tried to envision what the world looked like to the rat, deciding that it needed to feel sheltered to some degree. It needed a world in which to live that was consistent with logic, so she made sure each unit was symmetrical and orderly in presentation. Mercury seemed to agree with the design, because it spent most of its time frolicking inside the chambers without any sign of complaint.

She looked at the time. It was after two in the morning, yet she could not sleep, no matter how hard she willed herself to relax. Tobias had thrown her out of the lab, and almost physically at that. It disturbed Jennifer far more than she new how to reconcile. It would have been very easy to attribute the doctor's combative behavior to unanticipated side effects of the implantation, but Jennifer knew better. While it might have been possible that the doctor's ability to control outbursts may have been impacted, the basic truth did not change that rebels were being smuggled out of Alaceda by its top researcher.

She dared not do more research at the console. Tobias was watching. With the implant, there was no telling how much more she could see and monitor. The doctor's mind was linked with a core system, and there was no way to tell how far the doctor had gotten in her progress. The correct course of action would have been to make contact with Lord Dread and report the situation, but that plan had its flaws, as well. There was the chance that Jennifer would be caught up in the blame for the situation because she could not adequately report the situation. There were still questions that needed to be answered before she could fully reveal the situation to Lord Dread. She had no doubt that Overunit Balash had been working diligently to uncover all the information he could regarding Doctor Tobias's indiscretions. The indiscretions would never have been discovered had Jennifer not been such a thorough soldier.

So, why was she having such a hard time at doing her duty?

The question had pounded through her brain all night as she sat there watching Mercury waddle from one side of the habitat to the other. It was easy to say she faced the most crucial decision to date in her young life, but it was more than that. She found herself wrestling with her loyalty to Lord Dread and her admiration of Doctor Tobias. It should not have been a question at all, she knew, but there was something so intangible about the doctor that made it all so difficult. Perhaps it was because she was the first to challenge Jennifer in ways far different from the instructors at the Youth academy. It seemed as though Tobias challenged authority for the love of it rather than the principle. There was no question that there was animosity toward Lord Dread and his vision for a perfect machine world. Tobias did not hide her disdain for the idea. Those expressed opinions, however, held no indication that she had gone so far as to aid the rebels and their cause. It was a fully loaded weapon waiting to go off once the information became knowledge to Lord Dread. The only real question was where the weapon would be aimed when he initiated his punishment.

When she could bear the turmoil of thought no more, she stood and exited her quarters. Alaceda was almost deathly quiet in the late hours of the night. The only ones moving were the occasional mechs on guard duty, and they paid her no mind as they passed by in the corridor. There was part of her that was tempted to seek out Doctor Tobias, to make more sense of the situation, but she knew that would be useless. The doctor was going to continue doing what she had apparently been doing for years without apology to Lord Dread.

Jennifer found herself at the flight bay. She seemed to gravitate there in her off hours, pulling maintenance on whatever craft was handy, whether or not it needed it. Tobias had pegged it correctly when she knew Jennifer liked to fly. It was no secret, really. Anyone with access to the cadet's profile knew she had always listed flying as a primary goal upon graduation. Still, Tobias was the first to see it as something to be _liked_, not just a desired specialty. There really was a thrill in getting into the cockpit and experiencing a certain control over destination. Or was it destiny?

She approached the cargo ship that had brought her to Alaceda. The side port was open, and she climbed the short steps into the cabin. The left seat was lit up with the lights from the bay and the minimal systems dash diodes. Soft hues of blue, green and red flowed out into the darkened fuselage, drawing her to the seat with magnetic qualities. She stepped into the cockpit and dropped down into the seat, feeling its familiar comfort.

A sudden flash of movement to the right startled her. Ian was nestled in the right seat, leaned up against the wall of the cockpit, watching her.

"What are you doing in here?" she snapped, angry at the intrusion.

"Th-thinking," he said, irritated and not at all impressed with her ire. "W-what are you d-doing in here?" he countered.

She faced the control panel, wanting to look at anything but him. "Maybe the same thing," she answered, sounding a little less annoyed.

Ian put his feet up on the dash, carefully avoiding the instrumentation, folding his long legs in front of him. "You're going to t-tell on her, aren't you? About the h-how we help people?"

Jennifer looked at him, growing angry again, though she did not allow her ire to translate to her voice. "How do you know about that?"

"You were both y-yelling. H-hard not to hear."

He had to have been in the lab area during the conversation. Anyone in the outer lab would have heard the conversation. The thought that he was spying was infuriating, but she took a breath of pity on him. He was inferior and probably did not know any better. She let her remainder of her anger recede.

"It's complicated, Ian," Jennifer said, leaning back in the seat and looking out the cockpit's window. All at once, she felt weary with the weight of indecision on her shoulders. There was no easy answer.

"That's what she said, too," Ian said slowly. "But I don't th-think so."

"Just how much did you hear?" Jennifer inquired. She needed to know what Ian knew.

"All of it," he said, swallowing hard. "She's my m-mother," he declared. He, too, looked out the cockpit window at the hangar bay, not focusing on anything in particular.

Jennifer nodded. "Yes, she is," she said quietly. For as much as she did not like Ian, she empathized that the news must have been shocking to his lesser mind.

"But not yours," he added, as if for emphasis.

She suddenly felt tired and regretted leaving her quarters at all. Meeting Ian in the shuttle was not helping the situation.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

"Matters to me," Ian said. "Y-you're going to tell on her. Then she'll go away. Me, too."

"I didn't cause this," she said defensively. "The two of you are the ones violating Lord Dread's directives. You get what you deserve."

"Will you?" he said, still looking out the window, as if she were only a voice and not a person next to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a-afraid of him, or else you'd have t-told by now. That's b-breaking the rules."

"I am not afraid of our lord," she said adamantly. "I'm evaluating the situation before I inform him of what I know."

Ian smirked. "You're afraid," he said, almost taunting her.

He absently called up the shuttle's navigation system. A small screen lit up on the cockpit console, showing the shuttle's current location at Alaceda.

"She trusts you," he said quietly, not looking at the cadet.

Jennifer settled down into the pilot's seat. "She has a funny way of showing it."

"S-sometimes," he answered, "b-but you're s-still here."

She ran her hand over the throttle, remembering the exhilaration she felt every time she got to fly the shuttle, no matter the purpose. Tobias's surprise quiz on its "thrill factor" rating played in her mind.

"Yeah, well," she said with a sigh, "if you figure out why, you be sure to let me know."

Ian glanced at her, suddenly looking sober and as intelligent as she had ever seen him. His blue eyes glistened with what she could only discern as fear. "Are you going to tell Lord Dread?" he asked again without missing one syllable. He was not about to let the issue go away by any means.

Somehow, his question was more jarring than when Doctor Tobias had asked nearly the same thing. It had been on her mind the entire evening until she found herself in the landing bay. His asking it, though, was more to the point of his fate than anyone's.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" she asked pointedly, expecting him to back down in his usual meek manner.

"I think," he said slowly, carefully annunciating the words, "you don't know what it's like to think for yourself."

"And you do? You do whatever she tells you. Did you ever stop to think she's betraying our lord?"

"I k-know what he does to p-people. Seen it. He'll do it t-to me."

She was positive he had not heard the conversation regarding his termination orders. "What do you mean?"

He looked down at the console again, ashamed. "I'm not perfect. Not like you. They already took m-me once. Th-they'll take me again, only I w-won't come home." He looked at her again, almost accusingly. "I know what he d-does to people."

Jennifer could not argue. He was correct that those who disobeyed the rules of the empire or were disloyal were dealt with severely. It was necessary in order to preserve order in the new ranks, but there was not one part of her that wished to be subjected to those consequences at any point in her life. Though she had no compassion for those who disobeyed her lord, she took pity in imagining what would happen to Ian if he lost the protection of his mother, Doctor Tobias.

"Perhaps if you cooperated more with the empire's efforts, you wouldn't have to worry about such a thing," she said, using her superiority as a shield against the pictures in her mind. She was well aware of what happened to those who vehemently opposed Lord Dread and the empire.

Ian played absently with the navigation console some more. "Y-you still can't answer the q-question," he said. A sad looked overcame him, as though all was lost.

"Ian," she said, trying to explain, "you have to understand that I am bound by a code. I have to follow orders, no matter how unpleasant they may be sometimes. As difficult as it is, Doctor Tobias hasn't left me with any choice but to report what I know."

Ian shook his head but did not look at her. "You can m-make a choice," he said quietly. "If you d-don't, a lot of people will get h-hurt." When he looked at her, his eyes glistened with emotion. "H-help us."

She looked at him intently, feeling the pangs of indecision and being cornered with no escape. "I can't," she said, barely above a whisper.

Her words seemed to get through to him enough that he violently slammed his feet to the floor of the cockpit and stood quite suddenly. He looked down at her, flustered, and gave her a scowl.

"You're wrong," he said sharply.

He left the ship at such a clip that she was unable to get to the hatch to call out to him before he had already exited the hangar doors and disappeared down the corridor. She tried calling out to him while he was still in earshot – to what end, she did not know. Tobias might have called it guilt, but Jennifer was not ready to put that label on it. She was not sure exactly what it was that gnawed at her insides, but it reminded her of Mercury chewing at wooden object put in its habitat.

She exited the hangar, not really knowing where she was headed. Her walk was aimless though the corridors of Alaceda, the most sophisticated research facility in all of Lord Dread's empire. She thought back to the moment she had been selected to assist Doctor Tobias, how excited she felt at the prospect. Then it seemed to become like a terrible turn in the young cadet's life. Everything had always been so orderly, so logical. Now, it was all out of order, illogical and unpredictable. Jennifer hated that feeling, loathing its inefficiency and imperfection. For as long as she could remember, everything had a reason, a purpose. With the latest turn of events with Doctor Tobias, nothing seemed to be logical at all.

She came to an intersecting passage. If she kept walking straight, she would end up in the relatively insulated confines of her quarters. If she turned right, she would end up at the lab. Her body made the turn, much against the will of her mind, as though overpowering it by need. Somehow, she was not surprised to find Doctor Tobias sitting at the large desk on the far side of the room.

The air in the lab seemed heavy as Jennifer stood there, watching the doctor interface with the main computer. As before, Tobias' eyes darted side to side, seeing a digital reality and not what surrounded her.

Jennifer had no idea how long she stood there before Doctor Tobias spoke.

"You might as well sit down, cadet," she said, her tone not as annoyed as it had been in previous hours. "Take a load off."

Tobias nudged an empty chair at the side of the desk outward with her toe. Jennifer accepted the offer, which sounded more like a command from a superior than anything she had heard issued from instructors in the Youth Corps. She obeyed and sat down next to the doctor. Tobias put the interface in standby mode and faced the cadet.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, so gently it was almost startling. The anger seemed to be gone from Doctor Tobias's voice, replaced by something that seemed so foreign as compared to the day's events.

"No," Jennifer answered quietly.

"What's on your mind?"

She gave a quiet, ironic chuckle. "What isn't?"

"Believe it or not, I'm encouraged to hear you say that."

"I know. You seem to take pleasure in making me uncomfortable."

Tobias raised a brow in amusement and sat back in her chair. "Is that what you really think? After all this time?"

Jennifer's frustration broke. "What else could it be? You've done nothing but try to make a fool of me since I was assigned to you."

The robes Tobias wore were like a blanket as she pulled them around her torso in her usual habit. She looked at Jennifer with piercing, truthful blue eyes. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"What else am I supposed to think? I've done nothing right since I got here."

"Quite the contrary," she said. "You've performed well above my expectations. To be honest, you are the first ray of hope I've seen in years. All this turmoil we've been through has been worth it for the result."

"Hope? Doctor, I am the _last_ person you should be counting on to support your plan to aid rebels. In fact, the next time Lord Dread calls for a report, your operation will be over."

Tobias nodded. "I know," she said simply.

"You know?"

The doctor sighed. "I don't expect you to be able to turn off the engrained dogma you have swimming in your brain. Your Lord Dread has had eighteen years to mold you into a walking, talking treatise on the promises of a machine world and how filthy human beings are." She sat back in the chair. "A few months with me is hardly going to dent that."

"Then what you're doing is a waste of time," Jennifer concluded.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Tobias admonished lightly. "You're a bright kid. I believe that all this will eventually sink into that thick skull of yours. One day, you'll do the math and come up with the right answer."

"You're giving yourself false hope, Doctor Tobias."

Tobias smiled sadly. "Sometimes, that's all we have in this world. Tomorrow, everything will change, and you'll be left to make the kind of decisions not covered in any text you've been assigned to read all these years."

The hint was dropped like a brick in the lab. "What do you mean?"

Doctor Tobias turned to the console and reactivated the link. "Let me show you," she said.

The screen lit up with wire frame images, tunnel-like and with dimension.

"What are you doing?" Jennifer asked, intrigued in spite of the circumstance.

"Showing you the path to the truth," Tobias said, navigating the data tunnels. "Do you know what this is?"

"It's the data stream to the test environment," Jennifer answered.

Tobias giggled with mirth. "Oh, it's more than that. You might say I've graduated. We're beyond test environments."

It took a moment for Jennifer to drink in the hint. "You're in Volcania's systems?"

"Almost," Tobias said, traveling the data stream. "I've spent a good number of hours converting raw data to visual representations. You're looking at a true interface with your lord's computers."

"Is that authorized?" Jennifer asked, alarmed.

Tobias was nonplussed by the question. "Do I ever do anything that's authorized? No," she said, stifling a yawn, "this is strictly me weaseling my way to forbidden fruit."

"Doctor Tobias," Jennifer said, rising out of her chair, "I cannot be a part of this!"

The doctor threw the system into standby so quickly that it bordered on suicide for the rate she did so. She glared at Jennifer.

"_Sit down_, cadet, and _that_ is an order." Her voice was ice cold, the restraint she usually exhibited gone and replaced by sheer authority.

Even if Jennifer had wanted to refuse the order, her body was already complying before her mind could decide what to do. She returned to her sitting position, her back at attention with stress.

"If you want to continue stoically following your lord's rhetoric, fine. But you will not do so without knowing the facts. This will be your last chance to see the truth. After that, if you want to see it, you'll have to look for it on your own. Do you understand?"

Jennifer neither confirmed nor denied her understanding, because she could not fathom Doctor Tobias's words. All she knew for sure at that moment was that they were both about to be in grave violation of Volcania's core security policies, which carried heavy penalties, regardless of the circumstance.

Tobias reengaged the link and began traveling down the data stream once more. Along the way, Jennifer could see various shapes sitting along the tunnel. When Tobias would come to a virtual door, she would pick up one of the shapes and insert it into the doorway, opening the channel more into the deeper parts of the core. Jennifer could not contain her curiosity. Her mind readily embraced science, no matter the environment.

"What are you doing?" Jennifer asked. "What are the shapes?"

"Keys, for lack of a better word. This communication stream is one of the least guarded to the core. The secondary security protocols guard it, probably because it isn't used anymore now that Overmind has center stage. It's more of a utility tunnel than anything else. But it all leads to the same place."

"It's amazing," Jennifer said, without much forethought. The utterance made Tobias smile.

"On any other day, I'd be marveling at it, too. But we're almost to what I want you to see."

Tobias came to another doorway in the tunnel. She picked up a virtual shape and fed it into the slot in the center of the panel. The doorway flashed a denial of entry.

"Didn't like that one, eh?" she said in challenge to the virtual world. "Try this one," she said, picking up another shape and slipping it into the slot.

The doorway sat idle for an interminable moment before granting passage.

Even with the rudimentary wire frame shapes, Jennifer could make out something that resembled a control room like those at Volcania. There were data consoles, much like the ones Tobias had in the lab.

"We can't stay long, but I wanted you to be here when I confirmed some intelligence I received from the rebel network."

"Doctor," Jennifer said, wanting so badly to ward off the entire situation.

"Take a chance, Jennifer," Tobias said gently, in a mentoring sort of way that was hard to refuse. "See the truth and decide for yourself."

"The truth about what?" Jennifer asked adamantly.

Tobias stilled. She took a deep breath. "I got word last night that they're coming for Ian. Soon. I have to know when and how. This area contains that information."

She moved forward to one of the virtual consoles and began accessing information. Jennifer sat completely still, shocked that Ian's moment of fate was upon them.

Doctor Tobias brought the information stream on the console into view where Jennifer could read it. Though the data was scrolling quickly, Jennifer was able to make out one order after another for scheduled terminations and military movements. The orders were voluminous. Tobias worked through the data until she found the order regarding Ian. But it was not just about one young man's fate. Jennifer read the entire order and immediately absorbed its contents, feeling a cold chill run through her body.

"Oh, my God," Tobias breathed in complete shock as she reached the end of the data. "They're coming for all of us."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Author's note:**

**I know, I know – it's been forever since I posted another chapter. Here it is in all its unedited glory. As such, there may be some corrections as it gets read and reread and rereread… My sincere thanks to folks to wrote asking when the next chapter would be written!**

Doctor Tobias exited the system quickly, abruptly canceling the connection to the secondary system. Jennifer worried the disruption would raise a red flag in the network, but the doctor did not seem to care.

"We have to move them," she said, removing the connection filament from the cerebral port with disregard that was disconcerting to Jennifer. Tobias tossed the connector onto the desk, where it rolled a few inches before coming to a halt.

Jennifer stood, more alarmed at Tobias' urgency about the situation, itself, than at the news they had just discovered in the network. Surely, the information was inaccurate at best. Lord Dread would not compromise an entire research facility, especially one that was soley responsible for so many technological advances in the empire. She followed Tobias toward the door of the lab.

"Where are you going?" she asked the doctor, a query that bordered on a demand in tone.

Tobias entered the corridor in haste. "We have to get the refugees moved and get word to the others to get rid of any information buckethead will find useful."

Jennifer had to take a few running steps to catch up to Tobias. For as urgent as Tobias was to hide things from Lord Dread, the cadet was just as eager to make sure evidence was not destroyed. She was literally being dragged across a line of conduct that felt wrong in every fiber of her being. It was the first time she had heard Tobias admit to hiding rebels in the facility, an act that carried the death penalty that would be used as a lesson to all others who would defy the will of the machines.

Jennifer would be guilty by association with Tobias alone, she knew, once Dread forces took custody of everyone in the facility. Unless she acted to prove otherwise, she would be thrown in with the rest of the rebels to face the wrath of Lord Dread. She had worked too hard in her studies and come too far in her quest to be an officer and pilot to allow one person to destroy that.

She instinctively reached out a hand and grabbed the doctor's arm, stopping their progress down the corridor.

"You can't make me a party to this!" Jennifer said in a raised voice.

Jennifer suddenly felt herself being propelled against the rough corridor wall as Tobias pushed into her with a strong forearm, pinning the cadet against the cold stone of the mountain. Air rushed out of Jennifer's lungs and was slow to return under the pressure of the assault. She saw fury in the doctor for the first time, boiling over at a level that frightened the young woman.

"You listen to me, and listen good, Cadet," Tobias seethed, her eyes wild and on fire. Her forearm dug painfully into Jennifer's clavicle as the jagged wall of the mountain corridor speared into the flesh of her shoulders. "If you so much as blink in the direction of your lord or jeopardize the lives of the people I'm trying to protect, I will end your brief, miserable existence on this planet. Do you understand?"

Movement to the right caught Jennifer's eye. The crew chief from the hangar bay was approaching the confrontation at a fast clip. He appeared like a bird of salvation, his white hair and elongated face giving him an air of experience and authority. She saw Chief Bofor's hand slip down to his sidearm, ready to draw.

"You need help, Doc?" he asked with concern, glancing warily at Jennifer. His voice was almost a growl. Jennifer could feel his animosity fill the air in unison with Tobias. He took a protective stance, prepared to intervene on behalf of Tobias in an instant. It would have been a one-sided battle, as the chief was a sturdy man, despite his years, not to mention he was armed.

Tobias did not relinquish her control of Jennifer. Instead, she continued to stare into the cadet's eyes, breathing heavily through her nose as she fought to control her anger. There was a slight tremor in her arm as she continued to push forward into the young woman.

"Chief, take the wonder recruit back to her quarters and lock her in." Then she added, "And cut all communications to her pod. Tell the others to prepare to evacuate as soon as possible. We have incoming."

"Dread?" he queried, concerned.

Tobias nodded. "And his all-star band."

"Damn," the chief said quietly, his urgency coming to the fore. "How soon?"

"A couple of hours, maybe less. Three squads and two overunits."

He grimaced at the news. "What do we do with the refugees? We just got a delivery of them this morning. That's not enough time to get them out of here."

"Transfer them to the tunnels," Tobias said, mercifully letting her arm drop from Jennifer's clavicle.

"Doc, we haven't had time to screen them," Chief Bofors warned. "There's no telling if one of them's a Dread plant. If we miss one, we're risking the entire network."

Tobias stepped back, putting space between herself and Jennifer. She addressed the chief. "We're going to have to chance it. Tell your people to keep a sharp eye on everyone until we can evacuate out of the mountain."

"Affirmative," he said, though it was a tepid agreement. Chief Bofor stepped forward and took a hold of Jennifer's arm. "Let's go," he ordered. Jennifer was pulled sharply by the chief toward her quarters as Tobias whisked down the hall in the other direction.

She said nothing to him, convinced it would be worthless to discuss the matter. She had barely been in contact with him since coming to Alaceda. All she knew was his name, Bofor, from the name tape on his coveralls. He physically towered over her, his enlisted rank trumping her cadet status by years and a full foot. When they reached her quarters, he shoved her roughly inside the compartment, sealing her inside it without a word.

Jennifer sank down onto her bunk, anger brewing at the way she had been treated and threatened by Tobias. Mercury stirred in its habitat, poking its nose out of the container that served as a house. It exposed most of its head, looking at her and recognizing her presence. It moved with unusual caution, as though it sensed something was drastically wrong. Perhaps there was a vibration of tension in the air Mercury was able to detect, for the entire research facility felt heavy with anticipation.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind racing through her options. She stood and tried her console, convinced her only course of action was to contact Lord Dread and inform him of the new developments. However, the chief had followed through and cut the connection. The screens were black. Not even a local operating system was functioning. She sat back down on the bed, listening for any indication of activity. Occasionally, she heard the trample of running footsteps in the corridor. One time was a set of troopers, with their metal feet clanking in unison on the gridded walkway. Then, there was the more muffled, discordant sound of human feet hurrying in both directions. Mostly, though, she heard Mercury rummaging in its habitat, yearning to get to her.

It was less than thirty minutes before she heard another approach of footsteps outside the door. She listened intently, discerning only two people. There was a pause before the door to her quarters slid open. Jennifer stood, prepared to take on whoever stood in her way to get word to Lord Dread.

The piercing sound of a blaster powering up stopped her dead in her tracks as the Chief Bofor drew his weapon and aimed it squarely at Jennifer. She considered barreling past him and taking her chances.

"Don't," he warned, wise to her intention to bolt at the moment the opportunity presented itself.

Nevertheless, she continued to weigh the odds until she heard Doctor Tobias speak. "I wouldn't try him, Cadet," she said. "He'll shoot you without a second thought. I've already given him my blessing to do so if you try to escape."

The doctor stood in the shadows of the hall, obscured by Chief Bofor's shielding height. She made her way around him, giving him room to keep the blaster trained on Jennifer.

Tobias walked up to Jennifer and looked intently at her. Her jaw was clamped shut, as if to stave off the stress of the Dread forces bearing down on the mountain. She did not look like the woman Jennifer had first met in the labs of Volcania. She had taken on the air of general, a warrior in battle mode, except she was not armed like Chief Bofor was.

Tobias sighed and crossed her arms. "We have quite a dilemma going. The Chief thinks I should leave you locked up in here to face whatever your Lord Dread is sending."

Jennifer squared her shoulders to the doctor, feeling an ache in her clavicle from the assault only an hour earlier in the corridor. No matter what Tobias chose to do, Jennifer faced certain disciplinary action for her failure when she finally stood before Lord Dread to answer for the events at Alaceda.

"Is that what you think, Doctor?" she asked, overwhelmed with the feeling of being outnumbered from all sides and especially by a veteran holding a well-trained blaster.

The doctor brushed past Jennifer and into the depths of the living compartment. She walked over to Mercury's habitat and peered inside it, as if to let the ire of the moment die down a notch. The silence was painful. Jennifer yearned for the doctor to say something that could be countered, argued.

Finally, Tobias turned and faced her. "I can honestly say that I have seldom been at a crossroads in my life. I have always known where I was going and what I was doing. My studies, research, relationships – I've always known." She pulled her robed around her arms. "Until now."

"You can't make me betray our lord," Jennifer declared quietly. "I won't."

"Of course you won't," Tobias said. She sat down on the bunk. She grasped the framed with her hands. "Part of me worries I've wasted my time trying to show you the truth." She glanced at Chief Bofor and motioned with her hand for him to stand down with his weapon.

Jennifer took no comfort in seeing Bofor lower the blaster. She knew he could draw in a heartbeat and fire in less than a second. She had not heard him power the weapon down, which meant it was ready to fire if he nudged the trigger.

"I already know the truth, Doctor."

"That you're part of a larger destiny? Perhaps you think I'm aiding the enemy?"

"I'm looking at the enemy," Jennifer said, proud of her defiance, though her inner feelings did not fully believe it. She admitted inwardly that she could have turned Tobias in for high crimes several times already but refrained. Why she had not was something she could not decide. It was a mysterious piece to the puzzle that did not seem to fit anywhere in the scheme of events.

Tobias' blue eyes thinned, as though studying the young woman. "I'll deal with my own sins when the time comes. It's yours I'm worried about, young one."

"There are no such things as sins," Jennifer said. "There is only duty and loyalty to our lord."

"Which is exactly why you become my dilemma." Tobias shook her head. "Jennifer, you're one of the brightest assistants I've ever had. You have the potential see beyond the lessons that have been crammed into your mind since you were a child."

Jennifer felt thrill of anger rush through her at the doctor's challenge of the will of the machines. "You're wrong," she vowed. "What you've been doing here is treason."

"Is that the best you can muster?" Tobias challenged. "I can understand if you're afraid to take the chance that he's wrong, that you're afraid to face the consequences if you defy an order. But don't ever be afraid to see the truth, to take a chance and do the right thing." She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands. The overhead lights glinted off the implant in the doctor's head. "Maybe," she said, "you've never had reason to, until now."

"I have a duty, Doctor, and there is nothing that will stand in the way of that. You can do whatever you wish to me, but I will not betray our lord. When the time of your judgment comes, you'll learn why."

"I have to make choices every day, Jennifer," Tobias said. "One is harder than the next, but none so hard as the one I face now."

Tobias shook her head and closed her eyes in apparent disappointment. She looked at Jennifer, weary. "Perhaps it would have made more sense had I presented scientific data. Your precious lord is about to rain hell on us, and you're still clinging to some words - rhetoric that's been fed to you like candy. Maybe I gave you more credit than was deserved. All I see now is a young woman afraid to see the truth, to do the math. There are a finite number of chances we ever get in life to do just that."

Jennifer shook her head and gave a snort of defiance. She regained her confidence to stand her ground. "Doctor, this is more than your altered perception of who you think I am. I'm not about to kneel and beg for mercy from a traitor."

Tobias nodded. The doctor looked up at Chief Bofor and paused. "You win, Chief," she told him finally, with resignation. She stood and began to leave the room. She stopped at the chief's side, glancing back at Jennifer for only a second and turning toward the corridor. "Do what you have to."

Unlike Tobias, Chief Bofor gave a look of satisfaction as he drew his blaster. "With pleasure." In one smooth action, the barrel was trained on Jennifer's head, where it was sure to find its mark.

Jennifer tried to find her voice, but it was trapped somewhere in the pit of her stomach. She saw it in the chief's eyes – he was ready and willing to carry out the execution command. Cold blood coursed through her heart as she met her moment of fate. Chief Bofor's finger took up slack on the blaster's trigger.

"She liked you," Chief Bofor said. "I never did."

She instinctively raised her hand to shield her face. She called out for help to the one person who could save her. "Doctor Tobias, please!"

He winked at her and clicked his tongue, giving a small smile as he squared and took final aim.

All she saw was the barrel of the blaster, the dull yellow light of its emitter coil warm and ready to end her life. She saw Chief Bofor's eyes and knew he was going to do it. He had no reservations about eliminating her, snuffing out her life without any remorse. She imagined she could feel the heat of the blaster as he trained it squarely between her eyes.

"I can give you more time!" she shouted, the only words coming to mind that could possibly stave off her execution.

All time seemed to stop. Chief Bofor froze, and Tobias stopped her progress out into the corridor. It seemed as no one even breathed, especially Jennifer. The realization that she had made Tobias choose between a Youth cadet and some refugees crashed over her like a heavy ocean wave. The line had been drawn, and the Dread Youth was on the expendable side.

Tobias turned and entered the room, putting a gentle hand on the chief's forearm, causing him to lower the blaster just slightly, providing enough room for her to face Jennifer. Her face was stony, angry like it was in the corridor.

"What did you say?" Tobias asked slowly. Eyes that burned with fire were rimmed in a meniscus of wetness, but the fury was still there, still boiling.

"I… I can delay them until you can get everyone out," Jennifer replied, her voice tiny and afraid in the face of her own death. She was but a second from existence. Her skin prickled with a thin sheen of perspiration as she looked directly at Tobias, the most afraid she had ever been in her life.

It seemed like eons before Tobias spoke, the air in Jennifer's quarters feeling heavy and ill.

"Chief," Tobias said finally, "turn the comms on in here."

"Doc?" the chief questioned warily. His eyes moved to look at Tobias and returned to a fixed aim with the blaster on Jennifer. "Are you sure?"

"They're already on their way," Tobias said. "If this will buy us a few more hours, I'm willing to take the chance." She looked up at Bofor and shrugged. "She can't make it any worse."

Bofor nodded and immediately turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Jennifer alone with Tobias. They were both silent, but each woman studied one another, the younger trying to decipher what the older was thinking. Jennifer's only instinct was to make a run for the corridor to escape, but she knew there were most likely others out there prepared to do what Chief Bofor wanted just moments ago.

The comm unit blinked to an on state as power to it was restored. Chief Bofor entered the room seconds later, his blaster still drawn but at his side. Tobias nodded to Jennifer to take a seat in the chair at the desk and stepped out of range of the console.

Chief Bofor entered his identification on the console to enable outside communications. He pulled up airspace scanning that showed two fully loaded troop transports inbound to Alaceda. He bent down close to Jennifer's ear, his breath hot on her skin.

"This had better be the performance of your life," he whispered. "Screw this up, and I'll finish what I started." He straightened and joined Tobias near the doorway, bringing the blaster to bear on the cadet once again.

Jennifer reached out to touch the command screen and noticed her hands were trembling. It was not so visible as what she could feel. She had no control over the tiny muscles that gave her hands their dexterity. Her fist curled in on itself reflexively, as if touching the comm screen would cause pain. She willed herself to control her fear, calling on all her training that was meant to be employed in the event of capture by rebels. The irony of her fear clashed terribly with how worthless all that training had been. There had been nothing in the training texts to cover the present situation.

She relaxed her fingers and touched the screen, initiating the call to Lord Dread, who was nestled safely in the bowels of Volcania. The screen paused momentarily as it made the connection. Lord Dread's face filled the screen much more quickly than she had anticipated, dashing all hopes that an assistant would have taken the call and gave her more time to think of what to say.

"Youth Leader Chase," Lord Dread said. "Report."

Her back stiffened instinctively at the appearance of her leader. A strange calm descended on her, all in less than a second. She knew not to look in the direction of the doorway where Tobias and Bofor stood, lest she let on that she was under duress. She fought the urge, calling on her training to keep her focused. Tobias had told her to seek and speak the truth, so she said the first thing that came to mind.

"My lord, I believe I have made progress in the reclamation investigation. I believe it's tied directly to the rebellion."

"It's irrelevant now," Dread said, dismissing the bait. "Prepare to leave the facility immediately."

"Sir?"

Dread sighed with annoyance. "I've grown tired of Doctor Tobias's games. Alaceda and everyone in it will be taken into custody in less than one hour. I will interrogate them all myself to find those who are guilty of treason. If you do not wish to be included in that group, I suggest you return to your unit."

The timeline grew infinitely shorter than they had anticipated. She had to think fast. "My lord," Jennifer said quickly, "I believe there is a rebel alliance operating from within Alaceda. It's an operation that far exceeds the activities at the facility. If you send in troops now, I'll lose the trust of those here, including Doctor Tobias."

She saw Dread give the news consideration and took her chance.

"Alaceda is just a layover. My lord," she said in her most convincing Youth voice, "there's a larger network that may lead all the way to Volcania."

Dread sat back, slouching slightly in contemplation. He did not like news of any sort that indicated a weakness in his own fortress. "How close are you?"

"I should have all the information we need in less than a week."

The lord of the machines considered her information. Time seemed to slow as he considered her information. "You have one day," he said, holding up an index finger for emphasis. "I grow tired of waiting. Don't disappoint me, Youth Leader Chase," he warned and cut the transmission.

Jennifer barely breathed as she stared at a dark screen. She gathered the courage to finally look at Tobias and Bofor. They closed in on the console, watching the approaching transports. The ships continued inbound for Alaceda with consecutive blips that jangled like loud gongs in Jennifer's ears. Her heart hammered in her chest as they waited for the transports to change course. She saw Bofor's grip tighten on the blaster, small muscle movements in his forearm that signaled he was ready to finish the job he started.

_Please turn. Please turn. Please turn._ She chanted the words silently in her mind, her eyes now riveted to the screen. Each pass of the sensor sweep felt like one moment closer to her demise.

The tones suddenly changed pitch, indicating a shift in course for the two ships. They turned in unison until they attained an opposite trajectory.

Jennifer swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Emotions swelled over her in a wave she could not control and did not care to try. She dared to breath, managing enough control to keep herself from showing more response that she already was. She was not about to give Chief Bofor any satisfaction that she was afraid.

She opened her eyes and watched as the transports returned to base in formation at cruising speed. She felt the closeness of Tobias behind her, watching with equal concern as the threat diminished.

"Chief," Tobias said, "get the refugees moving."

"What about the screening?"

Tobias breathed deeply in contemplation. "We'll do it as we go. We need to evacuate now. We'll worry about the specifics once we get rolling."

Jennifer kept her eyes on the screen, waiting for her fate until Chief Bofor asked.

"What about her?" he said. She saw the barrel of the blaster flash in her direction out of her periphery, as Bofor used it like a pointer.

"Lock her in for now. I'll decide what to do once we're ready to move."

"You're the boss," Bofor said, sounding displeased with the decision.

Jennifer heard him turn and walk toward the corridor. Tobias followed a few steps behind and stopped at the threshold of the quarters.

"Jennifer," she said gently, but the cadet did not look at her. "You did a good thing."

The doors to Youth Leader Chase's quarters slid shut, and the comm screen turned black, cutting off Jennifer from the rest of the world.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The lights in the pod were at half power. Jennifer's nerves jangled with stress following the confrontation with Tobias and Chief Bofor. She sat on the floor, leaning against her bunk, legs pulled up tightly to her chin and secured by brown-shirted arms. Her head ached with tension, her forehead still reeling with phantom anticipation of execution. Images of the incident played in her mind at random intervals, each one poignant and terrifying. She analyzed every moment, trying to pinpoint the exact instant she had lost control and failed to utilize all that she had been taught to combat the enemy and assume control of the situation. In a terrible epiphany of the obvious, she realized they had used her fear against her to manipulate her into doing the unthinkable.

That realization stung horribly, destroying any bit of confidence she had left that she was going to be a valuable officer in Lord Dread's empire. She was weak and a prisoner in her own quarters. Everything had changed so quickly and in a matter of hours. The assignment at Alaceda had started out being one of prestige, of reward for her hard work as a Dread Youth. All the memorization and initiative she had invested in her studies had failed her. Jennifer's future had been smashed to oblivion with one call, one lie to Lord Dread.

But it had been under duress. She allowed herself that much. Jennifer had heard stories of other Youth and officers who had been taken prisoner by rebels and made to do traitorous things. She had always viewed them as weak, that they should have better resisted all attempts to undermine the empire and the will of the machines. They had failed because they were somehow imperfect. They had all missed something in their studies and the daily lessons that should have prevented their failures.

If they managed to return alive to Volcania – if those soldiers somehow managed to escape the savagery of the rebels, they were shunned as disappointments. More than once, she had followed suit with her comrades and turned her back on those who had been recovered from the clutches of those who opposed the will of the machines. The rebuke was an effort to teach others in the New Order that failure was never acceptable, especially in a machine world. The will of the machines was to be obeyed and fought for to the death. Those who managed to survive capture by the rebels were not fit to remain in the ranks of the rest. The standard procedure was reeducation for recovered soldiers, but that only served to magnify their miserable performance in the first place. They ended up pushed to the side, relegated to the role of servants to those more worthy of participation in Lord Dread's vision.

Now, Jennifer faced the same stigma. Her future as an officer and pilot was done. There was no hope of salvaging what had been lost. When she returned to her unit, she would join the collective of those who were worthless to the future of the empire. Her ambitions would be blown away like the wind, nothing more than a memory of what she could have become. There would be no chance at becoming a leader, no flying. She would never again experience the thrill factor Doctor Tobias had made her consider while piloting a simple transport shuttle.

Jennifer swept the room with her eyes, examining its contents. There had to be something of use to remedy her predicament. There had to be an escape from the dismal future she faced once she returned to Volcania, some tool of redemption that would spare her from the shame that would rain down upon her all the rest of the days of her life.

Mercury stirred in its cage. It emerged from its shelter to stand on hind legs and peer down at her where she sat on the floor. She suddenly envied the rat and how oblivious it was to everything that had happened. It only cared that meals were regular and that it had a safe habitat. It did not note the passing of time or weak human emotions. In many ways, the rodent was stronger than she ever would be because its goals were gloriously compartmentalized. There was nothing to interfere with Mercury's mission of snacks and sleep. Its list of priorities was always on target, never swaying at critical moments.

The answer to her problem suddenly became so clear that Jennifer chuckled at its simplicity. It was there all along, placed in the very same spot it had been from the day she had been made to install it by Doctor Tobias. Mercury had indeed served a purpose, but it was far from what Tobias had intended, which was to elicit weak human emotions from the cadet. Sacrifice was certainly not weak. Sacrifice was heroic, to the very end. For as many instances of weakness she had been taught to shun, she had heard twice as many stories of great heroism, passed through the ranks as an example of how loyalty was remembered in the empire. The names of brave warriors had made their mark on the Youth as beacons of fidelity to Lord Dread. Those officers had made the ultimate sacrifice in order to bring about perfection in a filthy human world. They had died with the highest possible honor. There was only one way she could ensure she would never fail Lord Dread again or give Doctor Tobias another opportunity to undermine the empire, and that was to take the lessons of heroes to heart.

Jennifer stood with great effort, fighting the exhaustion and pain that plagued every muscle in her body. She walked over to Mercury's cage and looked down into it. The rat reached up at her, its nose twitching merrily at the prospect of being held and fed. Carefully, she removed it and placed in on the bunk, where it immediately began exploring the breadth of bed. After eyeing the center of the cage, she cocked her arm upward and executed a perfect strike with her elbow on the glass, breaking the side into large shards that remained nearly in place, held aloft by the black metal frame surrounding the panes.

She carefully pushed in a large wedge, dislodging it from the frame. The sound of the piece of glass grinding against the others around it was a perfect compliment to the ire she felt at giving up the reputation she had spent a lifetime forming.

With careful fingers, she picked up the slice of glass and held it in the palm of her hand, avoiding the edges that were razor sharp. She admired the purity of its chemistry. There were no blemishes in its content, no bubbles or warping, no color defects. It was clear, like new data crystals she had installed countless times in Dread technology. She imagined she could mold the glass with her hand if she wanted. All she had to do was tap the heat of the fury she felt at her failures and bring the shard to its melting point. Then, her fingers could make it anything she desired – a weapon, a tool, a legacy for other cadets to admire and follow.

As it was, she lacked the ability to change anything, no matter how infuriated she was. The glass would remain a shard until discarded. When someone did finally clean up what she had used as a final instrument of loyalty, it would be stained in her blood, but the glass underneath the gore would be as pure as the moment she decided to employ it. Some day, it would return to its unblemished form. First, tiny microbes would begin by claiming the nutrition in the organic material from its surface. Perhaps a wild animal or one of the facility's rats would help the process along by lapping up the red cells that were once flowing in her veins. Air movement would pick up another portion and carry it away to oblivion. Eventually, the cyclical processes of the planet would reclaim what was left, covering the glass with dust. Depending on the angle in which it was discarded, it might even assume a new shape after a few thousand years, as the extremely slow viscous molecules that comprised the glass gave in to the law of gravity. By then, no one would care what purpose the shard had served, and the earth would take back what it gave, never to give up her secret to anyone.

The door to her quarters suddenly opened, illuminating the room with the overhead lights in the hall. Jennifer wrapped her hand around the shard and turned, hiding it behind her back, shielding what she had planned to do from view. Her heart raced as she feared being caught again by Doctor Tobias.

Ian stood in the doorway, dressed in his work coveralls.

She saw Mason and Dixon beyond him in the corridor, armed with blasters, stationed to make sure she did not try to escape. She had no idea if they had been there the entire time or if they had escorted Doctor Tobias's experimental son for the trip. No matter, an alarm had not been raised, which was good.

He held up a silver cup in his hand for her to see, raising it up a bit like a peace offering.

"I th-thought you might be hungry," he said softly, bringing his crystal blue eyes up to concentrate on her. "I br-brought soup."

Ian caught sight of Mercury exploring the wall that butted up against the bunk. He gave light giggle at the scene. "He's loose."

Jennifer envisioned striking at Ian with the shard of glass, closing the gap between them in just two strides. She gambled she could deliver a fatal blow to him long before the guards in the corridor could react. She calculated she might even be able to eliminate one of the guards before the second would disable her. If all went well, she would be killed in the process, thus eliminating the need to accomplish the task on her own. She would go down fighting.

"He needed exercise," she answered, eyes darting from one target to the next, playing the scenario through a second time. Again, she arrived at the same odds of success.

He took a step inside the room, pulling his attention away from Mercury. His face became serious. "I – I heard they made you c-call Lord Dread," he said solemnly. "I'm sorry."

Every instinct told her to take the chance to strike while she could.

There was something internal that told her to wait, though. She was curious why Ian suddenly stood before her, empathizing with her. He had made no attempts to hide his anger the last time they had spoken. Not only that, he was displaying regret that she had been placed in such a position as to betray Lord Dread, a man he clearly despised. Human behavior was illogical and unpredictable at times, practically contradictory in most respects. It lacked the structure and discipline of machines, reinforcing the need to cleanse the planet of its ilk.

Not that it mattered. She was going to put a stop to her failures once and for all, at a time of her choosing. She decided to allow herself one last personal desire, which was to entertain Ian's conversation and all its flawed qualities. His imperfect speech skills, his lack of vision for the future, his loyalty to Doctor Tobias – all served as a platform upon which she could perform one last psychosocial experiment, turning the tables on him and everyone else in Alaceda.

Jennifer gingerly, silently placed the shard of glass concealed in her hand on the surface of the desk. She would wait until he left to complete her final task. It would be the one piece of her destiny that she would control and that Helene Tobias could not stop. In the meantime, she intended to enjoy the game Doctor Tobias had started.

"You're sorry?" She issued a small laugh. "I find that hard to believe."

"I'm not sorry ab-bout why they did it, b-but I know it w-was hard for you to do."

She was not about to give in to Ian's attempts at humanizing her. "The chief put a blaster to my head. It wasn't like I had much of a choice, unless I wanted my brains painted on the wall."

Ian stepped forward and put the container of soup on the desk. "Y-you could have let him."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, feeling her forced betrayal suddenly go on trial with the imperfect handyman of Alaceda.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. His eyes strayed to the table behind her. "That's w-what the Dread Youth do, isn't it – die f-for Lord Dread?"

"They die with honor and for a cause, not afraid like a whimpering child."

"It's too b-bad you care as much about him as you d-do. He doesn't s-seem to care about you s-so much."

"Our lord provides for us," she said, the quote from her lesson texts flowing efficiently forth.

Ian was not impressed. "Guess he forgot to tell you he was going to at-attack," he said glibly.

Jennifer felt the urge to strike rising again. The desire to continue the experiment was quickly fading with each passing second. Her emotional control was slipping, to the point she wanted nothing more than to make Ian shut up and quit pushing the limits of her patience. She was weary of everyone questioning her loyalty to Lord Dread. Had she known she was walking into a bastion of rebel aid when she had first been assigned, she would have been more on guard, knowing fully what her mission was and how to accomplish it. Instead, she had been misled from the start. Lord Dread had to have known there was more going on at Alaceda than research for the New Order. His cryptic orders finally made complete sense to her, though it was far too late to be of any use now. It would have been so helpful to have known all the facts when he gave her the task. She had been left out of the loop of information with devastating consequences. She was a prisoner, pushed to the limit of taking her own life for the sake of a grander plan she had not been privy to from the start.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," she said, backing down as a particle of reality wormed its way through her thoughts.

"Or he j-just doesn't care about y-you."

"Not like Doctor Tobias, right?" Jennifer challenged. "The woman whose mission it is to open my eyes and make me do the math, as she calls it?"

"She th-thinks you're s-smart. She thinks y-you can m-make a difference and help people."

"Those people are what we call the 'enemy'," she said emphatically. "That would make you and Doctor Tobias the enemy, wouldn't it?"

Ian furrowed his brow at her description. "P-people need help. They j-just want to live. W-why is that so hard to understand?"

"We are at _war_, Ian. You and I are on opposite sides. That's easy to understand, even for you."

Ian sat down on the bunk and picked up Mercury, placing the rat to climb onto his shoulder. He became pensive, clearly organizing what he wanted to say. "W-when you first g-got here," he said, stroking the animal's fur, "I w-was afraid of you."

"I didn't do anything to you," she said in quiet defense.

"It's w-what you didn't do that m-made me afraid," he said, smiling crookedly. "Y-you weren't like the others D-Dread sent. Y-you looked at m-me when you talked."

She leaned back against the desk, sliding the glass shard back a bit so she could rest her hands. "There's nothing special about that."

Ian guided Mercury across his neck to his other shoulder, helping the rat traverse the thin span. "I've been a f-freak all my l-life," he said. "D-Dread kills people like me b-because we don't fit into his p-plan. S-so, overunits and Youth have always s-scared me. Y-you could shoot me, and y-you'd be a hero." He concentrated on her. "Usually, when p-people look s-someone in the eye, it's so th-they can aim straight. You l-looked at m-me, but didn't act l-like the others. Y-you could have b-been a hero. S-so, why didn't you?"

Jennifer did not follow. "Why didn't I kill you?"

Ian nodded.

"You didn't give me reason to," she answered, unsure of what he wanted from her.

"I m-must have some value," he said, "b-because Dread would kill m-me if he s-saw me. What k-keeps you from doing that?"

His question seemed pointless to her, an exercise in semantics she had no energy to engage.

Ian picked Mercury up in his hand and placed the rat gently on the bed. He stood and stepped closed to Jennifer, his face gentle and without anger.

"Th-that's what I want to know," he said.

She shook her head in quiet frustration. "You're asking questions I can't answer, Ian. If I quoted you regulations that said I wasn't authorized, you'd call me brainwashed. If I tell you the words you want to hear, you'd think I was lying."

"Y-you'll be able to m-make those kinds of decisions soon. He'll authorize y-you to do w-whatever to anyone. P-pretty soon, y-you won't think anymore. Then, it'll b-be too late."

He looked down at the desk. She had misjudged her clearances. She turned to see that the shard of glass she had moved surreptitiously with her hand was now clearly visible to Ian, the instrument of her destiny no longer hidden from view. She saw it in his eyes that he knew exactly what she intended to do.

"Y-you're willing to d-die for a man who d-didn't give a damn about you. He d-didn't even tell you he was sending t-troops to k-kill everyone." He looked at her again. "Y-you mean nothing to him, b-but you mean something to Doctor Tobias."

"They were going to _kill_ me," she said, incredulous.

Ian shook his head. "Sh-she knew you'd m-make the call if you really th-thought the chief was going to do it. It w-was the only w-way. Sh-she did the math and took a chance."

His words seeped into her pores like ice. "She tricked me."

"N-no," he corrected, "sh-she used you to s-save lives, including y-yours. Sh-she's trying to do g-good things for people, even when it's hard. W-we're all trying to do that." He looked down again at the jagged shard of glass. "It w-would be a sh-shame to w-waste all that effort for someone who d-doesn't care about you at all."

He waited for a moment and let the notion make its mark. Then he turned and began leaving pod. He stopped and looked down at the container of soup, turning back slightly toward her. "Eat your s-soup. It's g-getting cold."

With that, he shuffled off into the corridor and the door slid closed, locking her inside once more.

Jennifer stood there, as if frozen in time. Aside from the fact that Ian had spoken more words in that one conversation than he had her entire stay at Alaceda, she was stunned that he had managed to deliver the revelation that she had been duped in such a way that could take comfort in his sympathy. If anyone had a reason to reject her and show disdain, it was Ian. She had treated him with contempt at every turn. There was no logic in his response to her, no sound reason he should have any pity on her at all.

When he first entered the pod, she had the urge to kill him because she had been trained to seize the moment, no matter the objective. That urge was still there, but it was no longer directed at Ian. If she could have gotten a stranglehold on circumstance, she would have cut it to shreds. Just once, she would like to have had the upper hand. Just once she wanted to know the plain truth instead of having to navigate the ever-changing field of deception. Trust was not something she was accustomed to bestowing except during combat training exercises and the times she had gone into the field to assist the rounding up of rebels. In those cases, she had to rely on her comrades and the empire's machine soldiers to execute their duties with the same efficiency and consistency she did. It was more than a matter of following the rules. It was a matter of life and death, for the rebels seldom went without a fight. Sometimes those battles were drawn out and costly for both sides. In the machine empire, though, there was the ability to replace lost mechanized units. The rebels could replace their soldiers, but at a much slower rate. Soon, one method would overtake the other – the day the New Order would rise to complete perfection and power.

That was the plan, anyway.

Lord Dread knew Alaceda had been a source of betrayal, but Jennifer surmised he could not possibly have known to what extent. Nor did she. She was being held captive in the largest lie ever concocted to aid rebel forces. If she was going to give her life for Lord Dread, the least she could do for her own sanity was to find out just how far the network ran. If she managed to escape, she could relay that valuable information to Lord Dread, possibly salvaging what was left of her reputation and future.

She got down on her knees and bent under the communications console. She pulled the covering off the control panel and set it aside. Jennifer winced as it clanked loudly against the metal floor. She waited, listening intently for the sound of response to the noise, but there was only silence. Only after she was sure no one was in the corridor did she proceed.

The panel was a simple communications module, hardwired into the mountain's network with a series of data cables and fibers. While it was true that Chief Bofor had cut all communications to the pod, he failed to recognize that cables could be spliced into the adjoining main trunk lines lines, which were active and carrying data and communications throughout the facility. The chief was smart, but he was no match for a young cadet who was the top student in her class. That was why he was an enlisted support technician and not a seasoned officer, as she had once been destined to be.

It did not take very long to reconnect the cables into main lines that snaked through the walls. She expended quite a bit of energy to get to them, though, the metal edges cutting into the tender flesh of her fingers as she pried the conduit apart; but it had been well worth the effort when she turned on the console and got a response that it was successfully logged in to the network. Not only had she managed to tap into the network, it was an anonymous feed of data. She had bypassed the protocols that had previously restricted her access to the information she sought. Jennifer was able to tunnel through anything she wished. Any other time, she would have congratulated herself on her ingenuity. There was little cause for celebration, though, because she had not thought of the tactic sooner – yet another disappointment. Moreover, she wished she had the cerebral port that gave Doctor Tobias such freedom to traverse the data stream. Where Tobias could fly, Jennifer was limited by the normal human interfaces that made the process of culling data clumsy and inefficient.

It was important to know the state of affairs beyond the doors of the pod. The easiest way to do that was to access the security system and tap into the video feed that monitored the entire facility.

At first, the images on the console were chaotic. After some adjustment to the link, she found Alaceda's workers hustling through the halls, moving equipment and people at a manic pace. Then, she realized it was an organized effort, mimicking bivouac skills of Lord Dread's forces when the order was issued to move. It took on a patterned air, as though abandoning the facility had been practiced until every person knew exactly what had to be done.

She caught sight of Mason and Dixon patrolling the halls, running a set pattern that kept them in sight of her pod. There was no chance they could miss an escape attempt. As mechanical as they were, they were armed and could inflict serious damage if provoked.

What interested Jennifer most was what Doctor Tobias was doing during the mass exodus from Alaceda. She had not been seen on any of the feeds, but Jennifer was not surprised. She doubted Doctor Tobias would be concerned with the menial task of moving of equipment. The doctor would be more concerned about the higher intellectual aspects of abandoning a major research facility, Jennifer knew. The most logical place to begin looking for her was in the lab, where the doctor had shared countless hours with a young cadet to perfect the most advanced cybernetic interface the world had ever known.

Just as Jennifer was about to change the video feed to the stream inside the lab, Ian stepped into frame outside the anteroom. He bent forward to let the ocular scanner identify him. The computer acknowledged his identity and allowed him entry into the sacred world of the doctor's research. Jennifer changed the feed to tap into the lab's surveillance system.

Doctor Tobias was hurriedly packing research instrument into a cargo container. She glanced at Ian over her shoulder and continued to pack.

"Did you secure the flight bay data systems?" she asked.

Ian moved closer to her, watching her work. "Y-yes. They're being transferred."

"Good," Tobias said, concentrating on dismantling a scope. "I don't want that jackass to find a damned thing of use when they get here."

He closed his eyes, as if trying to form his words. He opened them again and folded his hands. "I n-need to talk to y-you," he said.

"Whatever it is, it's going to have to wait," she said, place fragile pieces into the container.

"N-no," Ian said, adamant. "N-now."

His insistence caused Tobias to stop. She put the piece she was holding on the table. "All right," she said, taken aback by his insistence. "Let's hook you up. We don't have much time."

She indicated that he should go over to the other work area. Jennifer switched the surveillance feed to follow them to their new location. She watched as Tobias fitted Ian with the goggles that somehow quelled the combat between words in his brain.

Tobias sat down on a lab stool, her patience dwindling. "Let's hear it."

Ian breathed deeply, as if in relief that he had help in organizing the words he wanted to say. "You can't leave her here," he said, his speech slow and measured but accurate and with no stumbles.

"We can't take her with us, either," Tobias countered. "She's a liability, and you know that."

"So, you're going to just throw away all the time you spent trying to make a difference?"

"No," the doctor said, "I'm going to keep innocent people breathing. Ian," Tobias said, frustrated, "I want nothing more than to find a happy ending to this. The problem is, we have Dread breathing down our necks, this facility is shot, and I have a boatload of refugees we have to move before this place becomes a cinder. I have to worry about the bigger picture now."

Ian gave a look of disdain. "So, it's all about what you think is important? What about what I think, or the chief, or anyone else? What if you're wrong?"

Doctor Tobias reached out to the lab table and picked up glass test tube from a rack, absently looking at its features. She became quiet, her voice soft – almost a whisper. "Don't confuse my making a decision with its ease. I've run through the options a thousand times." She looked up at Ian. "There isn't any other solution."

"You're not trying hard enough," Ian said, matter-of-factly. "She has to see why it's so important."

"And how do you propose I do that? Have the chief put a blaster to her head again and make her appreciate that she has a pulse?"

Ian breathed deeply, as if gathering courage. "Take her with us."

Tobias scoffed at the idea. "No way," she said flatly.

"Why not?" he pressed.

She carefully returned the test tube to the rack. "First, she hasn't been debugged. Second, she'll bolt at the first chance she gets. The bottom line is that she's a liability to too many people. What we do is too important to risk one person."

Ian frowned, saddened yet pensive. "You can't change the past. And the past isn't your fault. Lyman took things meant to help people and made them weapons."

"Ian," she said, sounding as though the issue was an age-old argument, "I broke the rules. More than once, I've stepped into a realm of science that wasn't meant to be touched. I made things that were never meant to see the light of day. The only good that came of all that meddling was you. The rest is something I have to answer for at some point."

"What if it's not all bad, though?" he argued. "What if there's still good in the rest of it? What if you could find it in her? You'll never know if you give up now."

She smiled at him and reached out to gently stroke his cheek. "It's too late."

"You would never have let the chief shoot her."

The accusation seemed to hit Tobias squarely. Jennifer could have sworn she saw the woman flinch as his words hit home.

"I wish I could tell you that was the true, but I can't. The miracle was that she saved her own life by calling Lyman."

"Then why were you crying in the hall?"

Tobias swallowed hard, emotional. "Because," she said, struggling. "Because maybe I did have hope she'd be different, that she'd be the one to see the truth."

"She felt fear," Ian said. "It's how the refugees feel when they see the overunits coming. She'll never look at what Dread does the same way ever again."

Tobias shook her head in disagreement. "You don't know that."

Ian was undaunted. "You don't know that she won't."

He took off the goggles and focused on Doctor Tobias, his blue eyes sharp and intense. "T-take her w-with us."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Appearances were sometimes deceiving. Jennifer had read that in one of her defense theory texts. It stated quite clearly that no situation or condition could be judged solely on the way it looked. Rather, it was imperative that all in Lord Dread's service look for any information that might counter what the mind perceived as truth. It was a sum of all information that led to the most accurate tactical picture of a situation. Anything less was unreliable. Moreover, anything less was unacceptable.

That lesson trickled through Jennifer's mind as she worked to conceal her entry into the mountain's communications system. She had learned all she needed to know between Ian and Doctor Tobias. There were only two possibilities – she would be brought along for the rebel escape from the base, or she would be left to face the consequences of Lord Dread's forces as they once again took control of the mountain. Beyond that, she faced even more uncertainty if and when she returned to Volcania. She would be sanctioned, she knew, for her failures. The notion that her future was gone again worked its way through her thoughts. There was so much to lose, so much that was already gone and beyond her control. No matter what she did to regain Lord Dread's trust, his perception of her would always be tainted for her initial inadequacies in her assignment. It did not matter that she had not yet graduated from the academy. She had been assigned a task that was so important that it would normally have been given to an experienced officer. Instead, her supreme commander had personally entrusted her with the job. It was a job she had completely failed at thus far. She had to find a way to redeem herself.

She finished returning the panel covering, though she hardly cared if someone discovered her perpetration. What could they do to her? Kill her? Chief Bofor would have loved that. In hindsight, though, she doubted Doctor Tobias would have let him go through with it. Jennifer could hardly say why, for human behavior was odd at best. Doctor Tobias was a complete enigma that went so far beyond the usual petty trappings of humanity weaknesses. Tobias was once a part of the empire, still revered for her knowledge and contributions to Lord Dread's vision, thus complicating the matter all the more. It was unimaginable to Jennifer that such an icon could turn on the supreme ruler. Tobias was at the pinnacle of her contributions to the Dread empire. There seemed to be no downturn in sight, unless some untimely event intervened to stop the doctor's advances in technology.

Still, there was another thread of instinct Jennifer had about Tobias. It was one that put the whole matter in doubt as to whether the doctor would have let Bofor kill a lowly cadet in order to protect a much larger operation. It was a game of odds, at the very least. Unfortunately, Jennifer had no idea where to begin calculating the likelihood of action. She could not even identify the starting variables. It seemed like an easier task to examine the corrupted code line by line than to decipher who or what was the enemy. The chief was obviously questionable. He was certainly loyal to Doctor Tobias. Jennifer was sure Bofor would fight to the end, believing in the rebel cause.

Jennifer returned to her bunk. Mercury scuttled over after enjoying an extended free reign over her quarters, climbing up her thigh and onto her lap. It sat on its haunches and sniffed the air. She daintily touched its paw with her index finger, feeling the rat curl its delicate, tiny fingers around the pad of her digit. It held on, as though to send a message that all was not lost. If anything, they were in it together, both having endured Doctor Tobias' games. Jennifer and that rat needed one another. The rat needed her for sustenance and habitat. Jennifer needed the rodent to satisfy the doctor's social experimentation requirements. In a way, they were their own army against everything that had been thrown at them. Mercury may not have had high cognitive abilities, but she believed it knew a dire situation when it saw one. She smiled as she considered the bond they shared, for it felt like a rare privilege few others might share in a lifetime.

The feeling of being on her own was nothing new to Jennifer. She actually preferred it, because it allowed her to set her own path. It was better to push forward boldly than to follow others and hope they were on the right track. She had spent countless hours learning her lessons and being the best of the best. She had earned every speck of her rank, relishing the thrill it brought when she was awarded a commendation or higher rank. There were those in the cadre who envied her. One had even tried to sabotage Jennifer's impeccable reputation by leveling false charges of cheating during a key examination. Proving the other cadet's guilt was not difficult, but the consequences for the guilty were harsh. The overunit saw it fit to use the entire episode as an example to others. Jennifer was elevated to role model status. The other cadet was severely and most publicly punished for his crimes. The entire disposition was broadcast to all cadets as a lesson of what disloyalty and dishonor brought upon a cadet who chose that path.

The door to her quarters slid open. Chief Bofor loomed in the opening, a hulking body silhouetted against the soft lighting of the corridor. She resisted the second-nature act of rising to her feet in the presence of a superior. The chief was anything but superior to her. He was a traitor, and she refused to recognize his rank and years of service to the empire.

"Get up, sweetheart," Bofor rumbled as he stepped forward. "Your presence is requested down the hall."

She sat still, defiant of his order. His hand streaked down and grasped her wrist, yanking her upright. Mercury tumbled onto the floor with a dull thud and scurried under the bunk for cover from heavy boots.

As Bofor pulled, Jennifer launched a broad swing of her left arm, fist doubled up. She connected, but it was a glancing blow off his chiseled chin. He twitched, and an annoyed looked crawled over his face, as if he had been flicked in the ear and not punched with everything the cadet could muster. He tightened his grip and slammed her against the pod wall, pinning her with his strong forearm.

Fear ripped through Jennifer as she realized how badly she had miscalculated the move. Fury raged in the chief's eyes as his hot breath once again rolled over her ear. He bent close to her. She could see the menacing smile on his face.

"You best mind your manners, young lady. You ever take another swing at me, and I'll break your arm off and beat you with it. Do you get me?"

When she didn't answer, he slid his forearm up until it rested tightly against her neck, squeezing off her air supply.

"Do you get me, cadet?" he said again, this time more forcefully.

She resisted as long as she could until pinwheels of light started invading her periphery. She struggled to find air, but the chief was an expert at the hold. There was nothing she could do but give in to him with a muffled, gagged "yes" that led to the release of his hold. She fell forward, her momentum stopped as Bofor grabbed her by the arm again and flung her into the corridor.

A horizontal arm was there to stop her. She realized it was mechanical the moment she hit it. Mason – or it could have been Dixon – was there, rifle in the other hand, handily managing the weight of the cadet.

Jennifer stood almost immediately, embarrassed to have been handled by a mech at all. She straightened her uniform amid deep coughs. She wanted him to see her brushing off his actions, as though his threats were meaningless. He only rolled his eyes, not impressed at her efforts.

"Good lord," he said, "pressing that uniform of yours doesn't make you a good soldier. In fact," he said, "you don't amount to shit at this point." He shook his head. "The doc was right - you're nothing but a scared kid."

He pushed her down the corridor. Mason and Dixon followed, ready to open fire on the chief's command.

"You don't scare me, Chief," she said to him as they walked, her voice still strained from his assault.

"Oh, I don't know," he answered, amused, "you looked like you were ready to piss those khakis of yours when I had a blaster to your head. Or did I read that wrong?"

"No matter how I answer, you'll twist it around to your own liking. Why should give you that pleasure?"

"You shouldn't, but that's a lesson you haven't seemed to learn yet. A good soldier wouldn't say a word to me. But you," he said, chuckling, "you can't keep those gums from flapping. You've been damned skippy entertainment since you slammed into the hangar. Thanks for chunking my bay floor, by the way," he added, tapping her shoulder in mock congratulation with the back of his hand. "Ace of a landing in a simulator, but not here in real life, sugar."

She could deal with all his other barbs, but his attack on her flying skills seemed so much more personal. She stopped and whirled around at him, eyes on fire.

"That landing was perfect, and you know it," she snapped. "I don't chunk hangar bays, and I sure as hell don't do my flight time in simulators."

"Ooh," the chief said with annoying mirth, "found a new button with you." He shook his head. "So damned easy. Dread's standards have really dropped in the last few years. It's almost no fun anymore. Where's the challenge?"

Before she could answer, he pushed her forward down the corridor toward Doctor Tobias' lab. When they reached the entrance, she turned to him once again.

"What are we doing here?" Jennifer asked.

"Ask the doc," he said, and pushed the keypad to the door.

It slid open to the familiar confines of the lab where Jennifer had spent countless hours with Doctor Tobias. This time, though, almost all of the equipment was gone or in boxes, ready to be moved or destroyed. Doctor Tobias sat at her desk in the outer lab, reading a data pad. The overhead lights were off, the only light coming from the lamp on her desk. She did not look up at the entourage as they entered.

Chief Bofor directed Jennifer to the inner lab area, the door to which was open. Soft overhead lighting gave the room a strange green glow. He pointed to a gurney nearest to the door.

"Have a seat," he said.

She did as she was told. There was no sense in trying to resist his orders. Chief Bofor gave her one last look, shaking his head, though she was not sure the source of his disappointment. There could have been any number of reasons.

He motioned for Mason and Dixon to fall back. When the three were clear of the threshold, he closed the heavy door. She listened as it hermetically sealed itself against contagion.

Jennifer looked around the lab. The cadavers were gone. All the beds were empty. None of the interface experiments remained. She jumped as the lights in the room shut down, all except the surgical lamp over the gurney. Her shadow on the concrete floor was sharp and focused, which was what she longed to be at that moment. It seemed ages since she had felt steely and sure of herself.

It seemed ages before the door finally opened again. Jennifer was not surprised to see Doctor Tobias silhouetted against the brighter lights of the outside lab. Bofor stood behind her, carrying a tray covered in a green surgical cloth. They entered the room together, approaching the gurney where Jennifer had dutifully remained as ordered by the chief.

Tobias stepped forward toward Jennifer and grabbed an instrument stand along the way. Bofor followed, placing the tray on it.

He whipped the covering off the tray to reveal several surgical instruments, mostly cutting implements. A scalpel, scissors, clamps – all had been employed during the experimentation on the cadavers. A shiver spiraled up Jennifer's spine at the thought that the same surgical steel that had penetrated dead bodies might come in contact with her own living skin.

Doctor Tobias pulled on a pair of green surgical gloves. She picked up a dermal injector off the tray and adjusted a dosage on it.

"What are you going to do to me?" Jennifer asked, trying to drain the tone of her voice of all fear. "If you plan to torture me, you'll get nothing."

"Love," the doctor said with a sigh and a genuine grin, "if I wanted to get answers from you, there are things I could do that would make your Lord Dread blush. Let's not wish for something that isn't necessary."

Again, Jennifer took account of the instrument tray. "Then what are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to de-chip you." Tobias saw the confusion on the cadet's face. "In your arm," she said. "There's a tracking cylinder. Dread can see where you are at all times. Another one of his control methods over his minions."

"Doc," Bofor said warily, "can I just say one more time that this is a bad idea? You remove that gizmo, and Dread's going to know that we know he knows... you know?"

Tobias took a deep breath and nodded. "I share your concern, Chief, but we can't take her into the tunnels if she's broadcasting. We need to salvage as much of the network as possible."

"Okay, but," he said, continuing his objection, "maybe we should be more worried about the ones we don't know about? We should be scanning them and leaving her."

The doctor nodded and looked at the chief. "Your objection is noted, Chief. The bottom line is that she's going with us, and we're going to eliminate the dangers we know outright. We'll find the hidden ones sooner or later."

Tobias' arm suddenly rose up to her forehead. She began rubbing vigorously at the implant in her head, issuing a tiny grunt. Bofor put his hand on her shoulder in alarm.

"You all right, Doc?" he asked, seeming so protective of her.

She continued assaulting the port, her right eye closing in irritation. "Massive itch. It's been driving me nuts all day. This what happens when you mate alloy and human tissue."

The attack subsided after a few more rubs, and Tobias returned her attention to Jennifer as if there had never been an interruption. "Okay, so here's how it works. You have a transmitter in your left forearm that needs to come out."

There had never been any mention of tracking devices in all Jennifer's training. "I believe you're mistaken, Doctor. The Dread Youth have no implants."

Tobias grimaced in frustration. "Just for once, would you accept something I tell you as the truth? It would make all this go so much faster. Yes, you've been chipped, and we need to get it out of there," she said pointing at the arm, "so we can get the hell out of here. Let me know if I'm going too fast for you."

She held up the dermal injector for Jennifer's inspection. "Now, I'm going to numb your arm with this. Then, we're going to make a small incision and remove the device. And don't worry," she added, "I'll make sure there's no scar on your perfect skin."

Chief Bofor drew his blaster but kept it down at his side. "And I'll make sure you don't give the doc any problems while she's doing it," he said in warning.

There was no use in trying to resist the removal of what Jennifer never knew existed in the first place. She held out her arm to Tobias, palm facing upward.

"You may want to lay down for this," Tobias admonished.

"I'll watch," Jennifer replied. "That is, if the truth won't scar me, as well, Doctor."

"Suit yourself," Tobias said, not taking the bait. "Roll up your sleeve to the elbow." She pulled over an additional stand and adjusted it to the correct height. She directed Jennifer to lean forward and rest her arm on the platform, exposing the soft underside of the limb.

Tobias placed two green surgical towels over Jennifer's arm, leaving a small area of skin exposed, presumably where the the tracker lay hidden beneath human flesh. She made one more adjustment on the injector and brought the tip down onto the skin.

"This is just a local anesthetic. You shouldn't feel a thing," Tobias assured.

Jennifer gave the doctor a skeptical look.

"Believe me, you writhing in pain will only make my job harder," Tobias said. "Besides, I'm not into making people suffer needlessly... even you."

She activated the injector. Jennifer felt a cold rush through her lower arm as the nerves began to lose contact with the rest of her system. Her fingers began to go numb, followed by the entire hand and forearm. The lack of sensation continued to deaden her flesh up to her elbow. It was an alarming experience, to lose complete control over a part of her body. She saw Tobias prod the exposed flesh with a pick, but there was no feeling. The arm might as well have been a piece of driftwood – detached and inanimate.

"Can you feel that?" Tobias inquired, continuing to poke at the arm.

"No. Nothing."

Tobias gave a resigned shake of her head. "Here's hoping you're not lying. Otherwise, this is going to hurt."

She picked up a scalpel and brought the blade to bear against Jennifer's fragile flesh. Tobias pressed down evenly and pulled back in an even, steady motion that ran almost ten centimeters. At first, there was only a thin red line to record the path of the blade. Then, blood began to well from the wound. The doctor reached for a surgical sponge from the instrument tray and dabbed at the incision. She then began to make another pass along the same route, cutting deeper through the fatty tissue in the arm.

The red blood was startling. There seemed to be so much of it. Then there was the realization that it was flesh – Jennifer's own flesh - being divided and sliced apart like some grotesque piece of meat. Perhaps it would have been better to feel the pain of the incision. At least then, she would have known her arm was still alive.

A quickening of her breathing got the doctor's attention. She glanced up at Jennifer, concerned.

"Try to relax," Tobias said in a comforting, calm tone, seeming to forget the animosity between them just moments earlier. "The chip is sandwiched between the radius and ulna. We're going to have to dig a bit to get it out."

"I'm fine," Jennifer said, even though she was sure Tobias could tell it was a lie.

Tobias concentrated on the incision again. She carefully continued to deepen the wound, skillfully avoiding damage to tendons as she increased the depth.

Jennifer found it strange and disconcerting to see the inside of her body so exposed. She caught a glimpse of bone and gristle that was the inside of her arm. The back of her throat felt instantly arid and sticky. She tried to swallow to alleviate the discomfort, but it only aggravated the condition, catching her gag reflex. Her stomach contracted involuntarily, making her entire torso give a lurch.

Tobias pulled up on the scalpel almost immediately as her operating platform shifted. She turned to Bofor, quickly putting the instrument back on the tray. "Get her on the table," she said with smooth urgency, knowing exactly what was happening to her patient.

Darkness crept in to the corners of Jennifer's eyes, an experience she had when she first arrived at Alaceda. She did not care about her arm or the chip or her immediate future. All she wanted was for the spasms in her stomach to stop. She felt the chief lifting her legs, bringing them up onto the gurney while Tobias supported the cadet's upper body, lowering her flat to the bed. All the while, the doctor kept Jennifer's arm secure on the procedure tray.

"Doc?" Bofor asked, sounding truly concerned.

"Hold her arm steady," Tobias said, picking up the dermal injector once more. She cursed quietly. "This doesn't have what I need. Just hold her. If she starts to go, get her on her side. I don't need her choking to death. I'll be right back."

The chief moved to the head of the gurney and stood there, presumably holding Jennifer's arm. She could not feel his grip and was not sure if he was really doing anything at all. She closed her eyes, her ears detecting the swish of Tobias's cloak as she dashed out of the room. The room was spinning wildly, making it feel as if the whole world had tipped to the right. She gripped the gurney with her free hand, holding on for her life.

She had no idea how long the doctor was gone before she felt the cool steel head of the injector on her neck. There was no sound as the medication flooded into her system. The nausea she felt began to subside almost immediately. The contractions in her gut stopped in blessed relief. When she opened her eyes, she found Chief Bofor looking down at her from the head of the gurney, his brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head. "Definitely don't make cadets like they used to."

"That's enough, Chief," Tobias ordered, moving into view. She looked down at Jennifer. "Better?"

"Yes," she answered, grateful once more for the mysterious concoction that quelled the attack of nausea. She tried to sit upright, but Tobias stopped her.

"I think you've seen enough for now. Just stay down there until I finish."

Jennifer did not bother to ask for details of the procedure. She closed her eyes, trying to relax. All she could see, though, were images of her flesh flayed opened, the gross meat of muscle and the bright crimson of her blood glistening in the light of the surgical lamp.

Within a few moments, Doctor Tobias held up a thin, clear amber cylinder with a pair of forceps for Jennifer's inspection. Tiny droplets of blood clung to the sides of the pipe. "Bingo," she said, rather triumphantly.

"Is that it?" Jennifer asked, still not believing she was never told it was there.

"That's it," Tobias confirmed, turning the object. "A crystalline transmitter, or CT, for short. Every cadet, overunit, and enlisted soldier gets one at birth."

Jennifer looked up at Chief Bofor. He showed her his forearm, where a thin scar ran the same length as her incision.

"Some of us were naughty and removed them a long time ago," he said proudly. "Back then, we used to do it ourselves."

Tobias put the device on the instrument tray, wrapping it in a surgical sponge. She then set to work on closing the incision.

"So, Doc," Bofor said, peering at the procedure with interest, "how are we going to check the latest refugee group for CTs while we're on the run and with no equipment?"

"We're not," Tobias answered, rather flatly. There was a displeased look on her face. She continued to work on the incision. "We're just going to have to observe as we go and see if anyone acts guilty. Mostly, we're just going to run and pray, Chief."

"Hate that idea," he said, shaking his head.

"Hold her arm up while I dress it."

The chief did as he was told, bringing Jennifer's arm upright while Tobias applied thin strips of tissue regenerators. She then wrapped the wound in white gauze.

"Your arm will be numb for a little while longer," she said, finishing. "After that, you'll start to get sensation back in your fingers. Once it gets to the incision, your nerves are going to light up like a switchboard until the regenerators finish. When it gets to be too much, let me know. I can give you something to take the edge off, at least until we get to our new location."

Jennifer looked at Tobias. Their eyes locked to one another. All the events of their time together in the labs of Alaceda coalesced and intertwined to form one point, a cliff of decision that meant life or death. It was a pinpoint of time between the two women - one young and one old – that excluded Bofor and the mechs and Ian from the equation. Jennifer had been the new variable in the game whose arrival had changed everything. From that point on, the future of all involved was uncertain.

"Why don't you just leave me here, or kill me and get it over with?" Jennifer quietly pleaded. There was no bravado in the question, no sense of defiance. She really wanted to know.

Tobias considered her answer carefully. A sad smile formed on her face, as though she had no choice but to accept the irony of the moment.

"Because," Doctor Tobias said finally, reaching out to brush back an errant strand of Jennifer's hair, "I guess I'm not ready to give up on you just yet."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Author's note: It was either play the lottery or try to knock out another chapter. The odds were better for getting another chapter done, so here it is. Please know that it has not been edited, as I don't have a beta reader at my disposal (and never have, now that I think about it). So, if you find some glaring error, please let me know! As always, thanks so much for reading!**

Jennifer walked down the hall, guarded closely from behind by Chief Bofor. Her arm was in a sling, which dug painfully into her neck with each step. She kept trying to adjust it, but that only moved the discomfort from one location to another. She had a feeling she would soon trade one pain for another. Already, she began to feel tiny pinpricks of sensation in her fingers, but the progress of recovery still seemed slow. It was hard to judge just how long it would take for the nerves in her arm to awaken from the anesthetic, but there was no real pain for the moment. She counted that as a good fortune for the time being.

Doctor Tobias walked next to Chief Bofor. They hardly spoke. The facility was void of people. It seemed awkwardly quiet, as if death had already begun to move in to the mountain. There was a pall, which could have been a result of the power levels being cut to a minimum. Perhaps it was the lack of the usual personnel moving about that she was used to seeing. Whatever the reason, the air felt heavy to Jennifer, giving her an uneasy feeling, as though something big were about to happen.

Chief Bofor took the lead of Alaceda's last remaining residents, knowing Mason and Dixon were in the train to keep Jennifer from bolting in the opposite direction. They came to the end of the corridor that terminated in a wall panel. Bofor stood there, studying the blank wall like it had meaning. He bit his lower lip in concentration.

"Last chance to change your mind, Doc," he said finally, quietly. He kept his eyes fixed on the white wall. "We can stay and work through it, just like we always have." He turned to Tobias. "You have to be sure about this."

The decision to leave was not just about Tobias or the refugees. It was about everyone who had served under Tobias, Jennifer realized. For the first time, she saw doubt on Bofor's face. He looked worried, as though he doubted the direction Tobias was about to take, not only with her life but with his, too. They would be on the run from Lord Dread, hunted like prey until they were brought to justice.

Tobias returned his gaze, acknowledging his worry. "I'm sure, Chief," she said. "Open it."

Bofor reached out to the adjoining rock to the right of the panel, where the artificial walls of the base met the natural ones of the mountain. He took hold of a sizable chunk of rock in his hand and pulled it from the face of stone. Behind it lay a small control panel, completely concealed by natural camouflage. There was little time to see the details of the controller, but Jennifer could tell it was another biometric device. She could see a green bar of light scan the length of Bofor's palm.

When it finished, Bofor returned the rock to its place, concealing the control panel once more. There was a series of popping sounds as internal locking mechanisms between the rock and panel began to unlatch. Jennifer heard six distinct movements buried in the panel. The workings sounded heavy, like they were made to hold. It was not surprising, given the wall's purpose. If it led to where Jennifer thought it did, Tobias would not have spared any expense in its construction.

Bofor reached out and wedged his fingers under the panel's edge. He cocked one leg up and planted his foot against the rock wall for leverage, pulling on the doorway with a good amount of strength. He grunted a bit, but he easily handled the work of two men in opening the panel. Once the door was open, he pulled an electric torch from his coveralls and lit it, pointing the beam into the darkness that lay beyond the entrance. Dust floated down and danced in the beam of light, obstructing the details of passage.

The chief pressed forward, leading the way. Jennifer followed him, accepting that Mason and Dixon were taking up the rear to make sure Doctor Tobias' wishes were fulfilled, with force if necessary. Once they were all inside the passage, Bofor returned to the doorway to close it. Once again, the locks engaged. The metallic clacking was more pronounced on the passage side of the door. She could see the mechanisms rotating, exposed for maintenance purposes. The chief waited for the last lock to engage.

"That's it," he said with finality. He looked at the wall sadly, as though it was a metaphor of a chapter closing in his life. "No going back now." His reverie broke, and Bofor was focused once more. He maneuvered around the group. "We're single file until we reach the larger passages. Mason, you're with me. Dixon, take up the rear."

Jennifer did not understand why they had to walk single file until she followed the glow of Bofor's light as it glanced off the dank walls of the cave. The small entrance way collapsed into a thin tunnel, just large enough for a single line of people to use. She was grateful for Tobias' treatments for claustrophobia that began the day Jennifer arrived at Alaceda. Otherwise, she might not have been able to move even one step forward to wherever they were going. As it was, the tunnel seemed sturdy and did not appear that it was going to collapse in on them.

The mechs fell into position so as to place Jennifer in the center of the caravan, virtually eliminating any possibility of escape. Tobias followed behind her, backlit by the glow from Dixon's chest plate. The walls inside the mountain were slick with condensation. Some spots had free flowing water that ran to the tunnel floor and disappeared into hidden chasms further down in the earth. Small puddles combined with fine dirt to form congealed mud. It was slick in spots. Even the mechs seemed to slip in it from time to time.

The pinpricks in her fingers continued to slowly increase. It was more an annoyance than real pain, but it seemed like a harbinger. Jennifer had no idea how bad it might get by the time she actually admitted to Tobias that it was more than she could handle. She did not want to give in, did not want to show any more weakness. She imagined herself mentally blocking the pain, pushing her brain to control the autonomic processes in her body. If she could not control her environment, she could at least control her body's response to injury. There was an overwhelming desire to prove Bofor wrong. Jennifer _was_ a good soldier. Just because he had never seen her in battle did not mean she did not have what it took to be an exemplary leader. One day, she told herself as they walked in the rebel tunnel system, she would turn the tables and bring them to machine justice. She would show them that humanity was weak, that what she had spent a lifetime learning and living was not a waste. It was destiny, and she would redeem herself to be an integral part of Lord Dread's vision, no matter how hard that journey might be. It was all she had ever known to be true and right. It could not all be wrong, no matter what Tobias or Bofor told her. It was mathematically absurd that everything she had been taught was incorrect or immoral.

They walked silently for over half an hour before Bofor spoke. "It's just up ahead, Doc."

"Good," Tobias said, breathing slightly heavier with the pace they were taking down the tunnel. "When we get there, send the demolition team to seal the tunnel."

"Roger that."

The area up ahead seemed brighter. Jennifer tried to look around the broad swaying shoulders of Bofor and the mech to get a look at where they were going. It was definitely a more open area of the tunnel system. She could see movement in the opening, shadows moving back and forth across the exit, like someone was pacing and waiting for the group's arrival. In a few more seconds, she recognized the outline as Ian. His hands were buried in his pockets as he nervously paced from one side to the other, stopping only when he saw the glow of Bofor's lamp and the mech's chest shield.

When they got to the end of the tunnel, Ian exchanged a solid handshake with the chief. He allowed the mech to pass by him and gave Jennifer an approving nod as she proceeded into the cavern, as though to welcome her aboard their rebel team. He looked glad she was there, like he was relieved Tobias had agreed with him. He did not say anything to her, letting her continue on into the openness of the next section of the mountain.

The part of the cavern she had seen from the tunnel was deceiving. It was actually a series of large rooms, carved out of solid stone. Warm lighting illuminated each area with a soft yellow glow that accentuated the red and black striations in the bedrock from the base of the walls, fanning out toward the ceiling until it faded into the darkness of cavern, itself. The air was cooler but constant and surprisingly lighter than it had been in the tunnel. The tunnel water she had seen was more pronounced in the larger room. It ran down the walls and fell into a small stream that ran into the bedrock and disappeared. She saw one of the workers from Alaceda walk over and fill a canteen, taking a healthy drink from the container. He closed his eyes, savoring the liquid like it was a delicacy.

Jennifer felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Tobias standing next to her.

"We'll get supplied here and be on our way soon. How's your arm?"

Jennifer looked down at the bandaged limb. She tried to move her fingers but found it still difficult. "Does it always take this long for the feeling to come back?"

Tobias reached down and examined the fingers for circulation. "Count your blessings. Those regenerators speed up the healing, but not without a price. It puts the nerves in overdrive." She added in confession, "That's why I may have used a little more anesthetic than usual. I was afraid hiking through the tunnels would cause it to wear off faster. You don't generally have a patient walking a marathon a half hour after cutting into her body."

A three-man team brushed past them and disappeared into the tunnel. Bofor approached Tobias.

"Demo team is heading out to seal the tunnel. But," he said, "we have a problem."

Tobias sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes closed tiredly. "Do I want to know?"

"Our spotters detected a patrol to the west. It's a probe unit. We can get around it to the next safe house, but it's going to take more time. We're going to have to send the refugees in packs. The metalheads may be dumb, but they can tell a gypsy train when they see one."

The doctor opened her eyes and looked beyond Bofor into the next room where several refugees lingered by the archway. They looked like typical human refuse to Jennifer – dirty and damaged – the kind she had seen being paraded into Volcania's holding cells on several occasions.

"I was afraid of that," Tobias said, conceding to the new circumstances without complaint. "Organize them into groups and have them move out when we have a window. Tell the spotters to report in every twenty minutes. We'll send each group out one at a time. Send the first when the spotters give the all-clear."

"It's going to slow us way down, Doc," Bofor said with frustration.

"You have a better idea?" Tobias queried.

"Not until we know what Dread is sending, no," he admitted, grimacing. "At this rate, with about fifty people, we're looking at over a day to get everyone out of here."

"Then that's what we have to do, Chief," Tobias said firmly. "Here's hoping Cadet Chase bought us enough time to do just that."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, casting furtive look in Jennifer's direction. "I'll let the safe house know you're on your way." He started to turn away from them.

Tobias stopped him, taking hold of his arm. "You'll do no such thing. You get these people out of here first. That's the priority."

"Doc," Bofor said, bracing for an argument, "_you _are the priority. You're going out in that first wave if I have to drag you."

"This is my facility, my operation," she countered adamantly. "I give the orders around here, which seems to have worked just fine up to this point."

"Yes, it has," Bofor said with a big nod, trying to keep his ire in check. "And I've been loyal to you, Doctor. I've done everything you've asked of me. Now, I'm asking for the same courtesy, just this once."

"Chief," Tobias said. She breathed deeply, regrouping. "Gregory," she began again, softer, calling him by his first name, "this is something I have to finish. It's the last thing I'm asking of you. Please," she asked sincerely, "help me."

Bofor rubbed his eyes in frustration. "You always have to be so damned difficult." He surrendered. "Fine, but if it heats up, you're out of here. I'll throw you out the door kicking and screaming if I have to."

"I'd never act so undignified, especially in front of you," she said with a quaint smile. Her hand squeezed his arm affectionately. "Thank you, Chief."

He sniggered, amused at her ability to manipulate him once more. He glanced at Jennifer. "What do you want to do with her?" he asked Tobias.

"She's with me," Tobias said quickly, as though to head off any discussion. "When I go, she goes."

"There's a song somewhere in those words," Bofor deadpanned. "All right, she's your charge, then. I'm going to get these people moving."

"Good luck," Tobias said.

Bofor saluted her. "We'll take every bit we can get."

When the chief had trotted off into the deeper rooms of the cavern, Tobias looked at Jennifer. "We might as well get comfortable. We're going to be here a while. Follow me."

She led Jennifer to the next room. Several refugees parted from their positions to allow passage for the doctor. Some of them looked at Jennifer with such disdain that she was concerned they might lash out at her. They cataloged her uniform, her rank, her affiliation with everything they had come to hate. Quiet whispers and murmurs echoed off the walls of the cavern. Muffled gasps were issued in the shadows as women pulled children close, as if to protect them from some monster. There were at least twenty refugees in the room, with more in the next. Their conversations died down as their awareness grew that one of Lord Dread's enforcers was among them. She felt as though all eyes were suddenly upon her.

As she had been trained, Jennifer took a count of all the people she could see. She could see twenty-nine people. Three were Alaceda workers she recognized. The rest were rebels or refugees. A few had weapons. They were probably from the rebel network, she assumed. There was no way they had arrived at the station fully armed. She counted nine children among the group, most of whom were about ten years of age. Two women seated on cargo containers along the wall cared for two toddlers. It was not clear if they were mothers or just surrogates who had taken on the responsibility of caregiver for the younger of the children present.

"These are the test subjects Lord Dread sent for you to use in the project," Jennifer quietly declared.

"No," Tobias corrected, "these are people who were taken in the middle of the night from their homes." She led Jennifer to a row of cargo containers along a far wall that was away from the refugees. "They turned into test subjects for your lord once he decided that's what they would be."

"They keep looking at me, as though they're going to attack," Jennifer said, hiding the concern in voice the best she could.

Tobias invited Jennifer to sit down on the container. Then she took up her own space, sighing in relief as she finally got to rest from the long tunnel walk. "So, what do you think stops them from doing that? You're obviously outnumbered."

"Fear," Jennifer answered quickly. "They fear what you'd do if they acted on their instincts."

"I'm not armed," Tobias said, holding up her hands. "Besides, they won't bite the hand that literally feeds them. The truth is, you are the one they fear," the doctor explained. "They see a brown shirt, and their hearts race. Their first instinct is to hide from what they know will eventually hurt them, if it hasn't already."

"But I haven't done anything to them," Jennifer protested. "You hold me responsible for things that are beyond my control."

"Are they?" Tobias challenged. "Every time you do a task to your utmost ability, you help Dread further his plans. Everything you do in the name of duty is an act of terror to these people."

Jennifer leaned back against the wall, angling her shoulders so the cool surface of the wall chilled the throbbing soreness in her neck and back. She felt so weary and exhausted. "How am I supposed to know the difference so that it satisfies what you want from me?"

"It's not about what I want, Jennifer. It's about what this world needs. It needs everyone to think, to put two and two together and realize there's a problem."

"According to your standards?" Jennifer asked in a mocking tone.

Tobias grimaced in frustration. She thought for a moment. "Tell me, how did you feel when Chief Bofor had his blaster to your head?"

The question caught Jennifer off guard. "How did it feel?"

"Yeah. What emotions were going on when he was two seconds away from ending your life?"

"Angry, I guess," she offered, trying to wave off the question.

"Try again," Tobias said, shaking her head that the answer was not good enough..

Snapshots of the incident flooded Jennifer's memory. She felt the cold steel of the barrel on her temple again, even though it was only from memory. The sensation made her skin jump, as though the reality suddenly repeated itself. Then it was over, and she put a lid on her response to it all, frustrated that Tobias had managed to make Jennifer take an unfamiliar path in the conversation, one which was rife with weak emotions and things not ordinarily discussed among cadets or anyone in Lord Dread's service.

"I understand you want me to admit I was afraid, so that I'll identify with these people. I get it," Jennifer said, defensive and sharp. "Really, I do."

Tobias was not fazed, not driven off by the cadet's tenacious answer. "Your fear makes you angry. Why?"

"Why?" Jennifer asked, incredulous that the answer was not obvious. Her face flushed with more frustration. When Tobias said nothing, Jennifer obliged with an answer that came in a flurry of emotion. "I'll tell you why, Doctor. It makes me angry because fear is weakness. It compromises everything I've been trained to be. If these people weren't weak, they wouldn't have been rounded up in the first place. They chose not to fight."

"And what would have happened if they had fought back?" Tobias asked calmly.

"They would have been cleansed," Jennifer replied stoically, repeating the words she knew by heart.

"They would have died," the doctor surmised.

"They would have received a just punishment for their actions."

Tobias pulled her robe around her torso, taking time to carefully work out the wrinkles in the part that lay on her legs. "So," she said, "they took their chances and surrendered to the overunit in the hopes that they would be able to work something out. In other words, they chose to live."

"If that's how you want to see it," Jennifer answered dismissively.

Tobias let the moment recede, gave the anger in the cadet time to subside. "When you first came to Alaceda, I had you trapping rats. You were bitten quite seriously on your hand by one of them. Do you think that was because the rat was angry or afraid?" she asked, ticking off the options with her thumb and forefinger.

"You can hardly compare human response to those of lower animals, Doctor."

"Fight or flee, my dear. It's as old as life on this earth."

"I didn't flee when Chief Bofor had a blaster to my head," she said, defending herself.

"That's because you couldn't. You could not have physically run from him, so you did the next thing, which was to call your lord and lie to buy us time. If that's not fleeing from a situation, I don't know what is."

Jennifer looked away, closing her eyes to the truth that had gnawed at her insides since the incident. It mimicked the other feelings that ate away at her since coming to Alaceda. There were things she should have reported but had not because she knew the consequences would have been extreme, both for Doctor Tobias and herself. Her failures had been mounting continuously since she had been given the assignment. It felt as though she had already destroyed any chance at a viable future in Lord Dread's empire, no matter what happened from that point forward.

"No matter how much you want to deny it, Jennifer," she said, "you are human, and you share the same human qualities as these people, which includes all the emotional baggage that goes with it. The motivations may be different, but you are subject to the psychological laws that govern all human beings."

Jennifer looked at Tobias and shook her head. She felt weary, and the power in her voice was drained. "That's why Lord Dread's vision is perfect. Emotions are weak. Machines don't have them. That makes them strong."

"It doesn't make machines strong. It just makes them consistent. Take away their power source, and they're just pieces of metal and polymers. There's no real loss, because you can always make an identical one or even improve on the old model. Human beings, on the other hand," Tobias said, smiling fondly, "are unique, one-of-a-kind creations. Even you, with all your predisposed genetic traits, are unique. There's no one exactly like you, and that makes you special, just as it makes every person you see special."

Tobias put her hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "Your thoughts, your words, what you have done or not done – those are choices that make you human. They're a gift, Jennifer, even if you don't realize that yet."

"Fear is a gift?" Jennifer scoffed.

"As is loathing, dislike, and hate. Without them, we could never know or appreciate the feeling of safety or joy. You," she said, pointing at Jennifer, "would not know the thrill of flying. It is your humanity that gives you that sense of freedom when you're piloting. No program can emulate that, no matter how many lines of code may be written. Turn yourself into a machine," Tobias said with a sigh, "and you can kiss all that goodbye."

Jennifer sat silently absorbing the doctor's words, watching the refugees huddle in small groups. For all the answers Tobias had tried to give, it only spawned more questions in her mind.

"I don't like being afraid," she said finally in a voice so small she hardly heard it, herself.

"No one does," Tobias said, trying to comfort her. "Even your Lord Dread."

"I don't know who or what to believe anymore," Jennifer confessed.

Tobias smiled gently. "That's a good sign, believe it or not. Look," she said, encouragingly, "it's not a matter of knowing the answers. Hell, I've spent a lifetime trying to figure them out, and I'm still not that good at it. All you have to do is open your eyes and do the math before you accept what you're told as rule. Test the theory before you call it fact. Be brave enough to accept the possibility that what your Lord Dread is doing to innocent people is wrong."

Jennifer smiled at the tall order. "That's all?"

"That's all."

"And what if I find that Lord Dread is right?"

"Then by all equations, I will have been wrong. Provided you do the proper calculations and consider all the possibilities with equal opportunity, your conclusion will be valid. But," Tobias cautioned, "if there is even one discrepancy, one thing you can't resolve, then you have to rethink the whole equation. Otherwise, it will never add up, no matter how much you've been told it does. That's when you know it's a lie."

"Have you ever been wrong, Doctor?" Jennifer challenged.

"Human beings are fallible." She paused but realized the answer was not satisfactory to the young cadet. She looked down at her hands, intertwining her fingers across her lap. "In small things, hardly. It's in the big things I have failed the most. Now, I have to find a way to right that."

Tobias looked out into the cavern at the refugees. She was quiet, not voicing the thoughts in her mind. Jennifer could see the look in the doctor's eyes that put her miles away from where they were, perhaps even in a different time with memories of whatever Tobias was thinking flooding back to the fore of her consciousness.

Jennifer saw Ian coming toward them from the other room. His lanky frame lumbered and weaved through the crowd. He stopped and put a hand on the shoulder of one of the refugees, an old man in tattered rags for clothing. Ian stooped down so he could hear the quiet words the old man spoke. Then he straightened and smiled broadly, as if the news was good. The old man smiled, too, as though he and Ian had been long-lived friends. Their conversation was short, and Ian moved on toward Tobias and Jennifer, his face still bearing a smile, as though it was a party and not a group on the run for their very lives.

"The f-first g-rrr-oup is r-ready," he reported. "F-five people."

"Good," Tobias said, pleased. "Here's hoping the spotters have a clear eyeball on that probe unit. How long until we move them out?"

"Ch-chief says tw-wenty minutes," Ian stammered.

Tobias nodded, pleased with the report. "Well," she said almost too jovially for Jennifer's tastes given the situation, "it's going to be a long night. Let's get some bedding in order while we're waiting."

She slapped her hand twice upon the cargo containers she and Jennifer shared. "Here's yours, my little brainiac. Ian," she said, looking up to her son, "if you please." She held out her hand so Ian could help her to the floor once more. She hopped down, planting both feet at the same time. The flat soles of her boots made a slapping sound as they displaced a spattering of mud on the cavern surface.

"Unfortunately," Tobias said to Jennifer, "we didn't have time to pack your blankets. So, make yourself comfortable as best you can. I'll wake you in a while."

Obediently, Jennifer obliged, leaning over and prostrating herself on the crates. She watched as Ian and Tobias faded into the distance, not really caring about their destination or what was going on around her. She was so tired, the day lasting far longer than her body was willing to endure. It exceeded the field exercises she had endured during her training. Nothing in her years of academy training had prepared her for the unexpected circumstances she was facing now in the bowels of Alaceda's secret passages. It did not take long for her to lose focus on what was going on around her. No simulation could have compared to what she had been through, unless she had been tapped for Special Services. The candidates for that group were usually already battle-tested and able to overcome the obstacles set before them involving capture by the enemy and other nefarious aspects that coincided with enemy capture. They were designed for situations exactly like the one she faced. Jennifer had, at one point, been able to imagine herself among that elite group of operatives, but she soon learned that they were more muscle than brains. Only a select few really thought through the problems. The rest just followed orders. That was not what she wanted to be at all. She wanted the best of both – strength and leadership. That was what pilots had. They had the armament, and it took significant intelligence to fly the latest, most high-tech ships in the fleet. From the first time she had been allowed to sit in a cockpit just to see what it was like, she was hooked. It felt right. It was where she belonged.

Her rest was fitful. As was typical in the opening volleys of her sleep cycle, her brain shut out the sounds around her for brief moments until a louder sound broke through the barrier, bringing her back to a semi-conscious state. Each time, she would open her eyes just enough to see the blurred outlines of people milling about the cavern, waiting for their turn to escape back into the world. Underneath all that were twinges of pain in her arm that were annoying. They clashed with her body's desperate need for sleep. The two sensations battled back and forth, neither gaining any real ground for a while.

A single thump sounded in the next room, bringing her to the surface again. Her eyes opened to slits once more, seeing the refugees with their non-descript rags for clothes and dirty hair and skin. There was one, though, who stood fast in the threshold of the next room whose features suddenly became crystal clear after a few seconds. Her brain took its time piecing together the details. Once complete, it jolted her back to consciousness. It had not been a dream. Jennifer was sure of that. She recognized him so clearly that she sat bolt upright on the cargo containers.

Then the pain in her arm returned with such a vengeance that she could barely breathe. She doubled over, cradling the limb, trying to press away the cacophony firing in her nerves. Fingers that had only tingled with pinpricks before were now on fire, as was the rest of her forearm. It felt as though a hundred razors were shredding her skin again and again. She looked down between the folds of the sling to make sure there was no blood. Each beat of her heart increased the intensity until she cried out despite all her efforts to keep from doing so. In the midst of the haze of pain, she looked into the next room of the cavern for the figure she had seen in her sleep. He was there, watching her. He acknowledged Jennifer with a nod.

Sweat beaded on Jennifer's head and rolled down her face in rivulets, collecting in the collar of her uniform shirt. She kept her eyes trained on the man, wanting to make sure the face she was seeing was real and not a product of her distress. Then Tobias was at Jennifer's side, laying her flat once more. Ian had come to help, too. They fully blocked Jennifer's view of the next room. She tried to get up, to follow the man, but to no avail. Then, she felt the cold tip of a dermal injector on her neck as Doctor Tobias prepared to administer pain medication.

"No," Jennifer gasped weakly, reaching blindly with her good hand to try to stop the inevitable, but it was too late.

The injector hissed its contents into her bloodstream. Five seconds later, the entire cavern went black.


	20. Chapter 20

**Well, this would have been posted a lot sooner, except my final version got eaten by MS Word gnomes. Fortunately, I had made a backup of the chapter halfway through writing it. So, here it is, sans a few changes from the original. May it rest in pieces.**

**As usual, this has not been edited, so send me the typos and goofs you find. And as always, thanks so much for reading this and giving feedback!**

**Chapter 20**

One of the first classes Jennifer remembered taking when she was young at the academy was aquatics. The first day was terrifying as instructors literally pushed the students, who had no idea how to swim, into the water. They lined up the eight-year-olds along the edge of the pool, with an instructor in the deep end where there was no hope of anyone touching bottom, and pushed. Small, flailing bodies sailed into the blue void one at a time, allowed just enough time to fight against sinking as best they could before they went under the surface. They sank to the bottom and were made to stay there until their lungs filled with water. More than a few students were finally brought up completely lifeless. They were revived and put back in line to try again. The idea was to learn to hate the feeling of drowning so that the student would want to survive in a water environment. It was meant to be a motivator to increase the speed of learning to swim.

Jennifer watched the spectacle, last in line, the shortest child in her class, as a newly polished overunit decided to reverse their normal line-up routine of alphabetical order. The first was last, and the last was first. It gave her time to watch and learn from the failure of others. Even as a young girl, she dutifully analyzed each and every victim of the training, realizing their first mistake was panicking when they hit the water. Even though she could not swim, either, it seemed that the more the swimmers fought, the more quickly they tired with no ability to assess what steps would save them. It was the first time she had ever conducted an experiment. She was determined to outwit her instructors in this lesson, because she had already known what it was like to not be able to breathe, and that was something she didn't like. The one – and only - time she was caught talking out of turn in class that same year had resulted in her mouth being taped. The large swath of binding covered her mouth and little too much of her tiny nose, cutting off her air supply completely. She dared not reach up to remove it, for fear of further punishment. She sat on the stool in the corner of the classroom until her body simply gave out, deprived of its oxygen supply. The next thing she knew, she was in her dorm, alone, under her blankets. She had no idea how she had gotten there, but the other children would not speak of the incident, only saying they would never talk out of turn in class ever again, either.

Despite her young scientific efforts to learn from the mistakes of others, she, too, suffered the same fate in the pool to some extent, only she knew not to fight the water. She accepted she could not swim, but she also knew she did not have to give in and allow water to enter her young lungs. In short, she faked drowing to get out of the pool more quickly. She emulated what the other students had suffered in their attempts to break back to the surface, willing herself still and limp until she was propelled out of the pool by the instructor. No matter, it was still an eon before she was able to take a precious gasp of air again. She was barely conscious as she was laid out on the concrete edge of the facility. Then, after only a few minutes of recovery time, she was in the water again.

Shades of that feeling of diminished respirations assaulted her once more as she tried to make it to the surface of the pool, only it wasn't the pool. That fact dawned on her in bits and pieces. She was somewhere else, but she could not quite bring her wits into focus. She remembered passing her swimming test, though with difficulty, but this was no swim test. She was no longer a child. She was somewhere colder, uncomfortable and admittedly afraid that of her inability to take a full breath. Both ears were a rush of white noise. Her inner ears were not processing outside noise, only her ragged attempts at breathing. Her chest wall muscles felt weak and taut, unable to expand as she needed. If only she could remember why.

Jennifer willed the muscles in her neck to move. They felt heavy and limp, practically useless until she forced them to the very limit of her ability to turn. The result was a flopping motion. She felt a limited sense of accomplishment, but it took every ounce of reserve strength she had just to do that small movement. If only she could get her lungs to expand all the way, it would solve a lot of problems. She despised the feeling of weakness in her body. Sometimes, it was worse than emotional weakness. Emotions could be analyzed and reworked when failed. Muscles took longer, and sometimes, they failed entirely, never to be recovered. That was, of course, if they were really injured. They could be paralyzed with medication. That was definitely a possibility, one she had experienced so many times a few times in her academy training, although the reasons for those occasions were not always clear.

Jennifer felt a tapping on her cheek, but she still could not open her eyes to see the source. Then, she felt fingers peeling back her right eyelid. She saw Helen Tobias staring down at her, looking too concerned for comfort. The doctor was saying something, but the white noise in Jennifer's ears drowned it out completely. Tobias let go, and Jennifer was plunged into darkness again. Seconds later, or maybe it was an hour, she felt a cold metal against her neck. A chill entered her artery. She knew it was medication, but she did not really care what it was meant to do. She followed its path in her mind as the cool sensation flowed through her bloodstream, chilling her fingers and toes. She stretched her legs, elongating muscles that felt atrophied and confined. Curiously, the stress on her lungs seemed to lessen rather quickly. She breathed deeply, allowing them to expand and drink in the lovely simple commodity known as oxygen.

Where was she, though? She took a moment to try to remember. It had mostly to do with Doctor Tobias. There was Alaceda, with its rats and refugees. Images of Ian and Chief Bofor mingled with mechs and tunnels. The rush in her ears rolled in tandem with the speed of her brain catching up to the present. Her pulse trotted along in time, pounding in her ears in a companion rhythm until the symphony was an insane ensemble of clashing sensations.

Then, all at once, everything went silent, as the composition came to an abrupt end. She opened her eyes and saw Tobias standing over her again, leaning in, calling Jennifer's name.

"Just relax," Tobias said. "You're going to be fine."

It took a moment for Jennifer's memory to put the few remaining pieces together before she was brought back to complete reality. Her arm was free of the sling, placed flat on the top of the cargo box upon which she lay. It hurt, but it was nowhere near as intense as what had taken her out in her last waking moments.

Jennifer breathed deeply, trying to clear the last vestiges of fog from her brain. Her mouth was dry. "What happened?" she croaked.

"The regenerators on your arm went haywire," Tobias explained. "We've worked out most of the bugs in them, but they can have issues from time to time."

Issues? The simplicity of the explanation seemed almost comical. "I thought my arm was being cut off," Jennifer said, understating the intensity of the event.

"I've heard that's what it's like," Tobias said sheepishly. "We'll just have to keep working on it. In the meantime," she said, more refreshed, "I've removed them for now. I don't think the scar will be too bad. Most of it has already healed."

As if that was supposed to be some incredible consolation, Jennifer groused internally. "How long was I out?"

"Half hour," Tobias said. "I put you under pretty good once Ian saw you were in trouble."

Jennifer looked for him and found him standing off to the side at the foot of the cargo containers. He gave her a little wave with his fingers, looking relieved that she was among the living once more.

"Thank you," Jennifer said to him.

Ian nodded but said nothing in return.

Jennifer began to sit up, assisted by Tobias. There were a few refugees lingering at a distance, watching the conclusion of the spectacle with interest. There was, without a doubt, an inherent morbid curiosity among them regarding the fate of one of Lord Dread's soldiers. She looked directly at them, returning their stares with her sharpest ability until they gave up the pursuit and shuffled off to other areas of the caverns.

Chief Bofor came in from the next room. He walked at a clip, agitated, making his way to Tobias.

"Doc," he said, "next group's away, but the spotters are getting nervous reporting in on the radios so often. They're afraid they're going to be tracked." He glanced at Jennifer, his eyebrows rising in amusement. "Wow, she's actually vertical for once," he sniffed.

"Well," Tobias said, ignoring Bofor's observation, "we've gotten a few good hours out of them. I can't ask them to risk more than they already have. Adjust the check-in to thirty minutes. What about the probe unit?"

"Still trudging around in circles," Bofor said, focusing on Tobias. "Looks like a standard patrol protocol."

"Let's hope it stays that simple."

Bofor grimaced. "We've got four groups to go, and that doesn't include getting you and yours out of here. We can't keep stringing this out, Doc. All it's going to take is one mistake and all bets will be off like a cheap prom dress."

"I know," Tobias said tiredly. "This is endgame, Chief. We're out of options, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let one more innocent soul fall into Lyman's hands. Keep those radio operators sounding off as long as you can."

"And when they quit?"

She smiled with eyes that looked sad and oh so tired. "I'll think of something,"she told him, a phrase that seemed familiar to Bofor because he issued a mirthless chuckle in response.

There was motion in the distance. Jennifer looked beyond the chief to see the man in the entrance to the next section of cavern. Her heart sank as she realized it had not been a dream or a product of her haze of pain. He was really there, and she knew why. She had most assuredly failed Lord Dread. As a measure of mitigation, the supreme commander of the machine empire had sent Overunit Balash disguised as a refugee to infiltrate Doctor Tobias' network. The last time she had seen him, he was the polished perfection of an officer. Now, he was dressed in rags, but his eyes were sharp, observing. She could almost see the calculations fluttering in his head, determining the permutations of potential actions.

She looked down at her arm, seeing the nearly-healed incision that was pink and new, flesh folded in on itself and secured by tiny threads that would eventually dissolve. The tracking device had been removed, and she was no longer able to be detected on Volcania's systems. She wasn't, but she bet Overunit Balash would try to get a signal out to Volcania as soon as he could. She needed to assess his intentions without drawing attention to the situation. While she really did not want to see harsh punishment befall Doctor Tobias, she also could not stand idley by and allow the escape of the very enemy she had been sworn to defeat.

"I have to relieve myself," she blurted out, eliciting an awkward silence from both Doctor Tobias and Chief Bofor. Even Ian looked at her rather oddly.

Tobias looked at Bofor. "And we thought we had a crisis on our hands?" She turned to Ian. "Would you show her the facilities?"

He nodded and stepped forward, holding out his hand to help her off the crates. She landed on the floor unsteadily, still woozy and unsure in the aftermath of whatever Doctor Tobias had used to sedate her . . . again. Ian grasped her elbow to steady her. She wrenched it away with a small yank, wanting to illustrate to everyone that she was not helpless. It was just a matter of getting her legs under her again, which were wobbly and weak at the moment.

Ian rolled his eyes, holding his hands up as public proof he was no longer offering her help. "F-fine," he said. "F-follow me."

He led her into the next cavern room where she watched Overunit Balash sink back into the shadows. The walk was not far, but by the time they had reached the makeshift lavatory, she was fully in control of her faculties and muscles. Ian stood there, waiting for her.

"I can find my way back," she snapped. "I don't think asking for a little privacy is too much. Do you?"

He shrugged. "Depends on h-how you ask."

He caught her off guard, and she paused. She _had _been rude to his simple, courteous question. While he fiercely defended and assisted Doctor Tobias in the smuggling of refugees, a crime she could not ignore, she admired his ability to overcome his disability in communication. He could be forward and dogged when he wanted. Most of all, he seemed like he just wanted to help and do the right thing, even with a cadet from Volcania who had been sent to spy on them. The only reason she was even in the tunnel was because of his intervention. There was little doubt Tobias would have left her to face the consequences of arriving units. She owed him for at least that much.

Jennifer backtracked as graciously as she could, giving him a small smile at his forwardness. "I'm sorry," she said, more politely, removing the abrasive tone in her voice. "Thank you, but I can find my way back."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words would not form to his command. He quickly gave up the battle and nodded his head at her, returning the smile broadly, knowing he had won the battle.

When he was far enough away, Jennifer entered the enclosed lavatory. It was surprisingly spacious inside, with dark green walls that kept the activities inside from public view. She knew she would eventually have to meet with Overunit Balash. She decided to make use of the facilities while she could. When she was finished, she made sure her uniform was as crisp as it could be, given the circumstances. It was then she realized her cap was gone, probably lost when she was sedated. It was of little matter. If a lost cap were the only thing she had to worry about, everything else would have been simple. As it was, she felt buried in trouble, unsure of how to proceed with anything. She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering how she had become so embroiled in the whole mess. Tobias wanted her to "do the right thing". Why was it so impossible to think Lord Dread's way was right, and why was she so filled with doubt that it really was? She had always known where she was going and what she was doing, just like the doctor. Now, she felt the crushing dilemma of whether she should tell Doctor Tobias about Overunit Balash or let her superior officer take the entire mess into custody by whatever means necessary.

Jennifer finished straightening her uniform and washed her hands. She opened the door to return to Doctor Tobias so as to avoid suspicion. She took one step outside the lavatory and was immediately grabbed and pulled around the far side of the cubicle, out of sight of the rest of the cavern's occupants.

Overunit Balash had a hold of her. She gasped, startled at being handled so abruptly. It felt like an attack, but she knew better than to protest. Years of training kicked in, and she lowered her eyes in respect to him.

"My lord," she said quietly, though her heart pounded with shock.

He was dressed in rags, like the other refugees, a stench wafting from his body that she knew must have offended him. He had to fit in, though. The only way to do that was to be exactly as the others were.

"Where are we?" he snapped in a whisper, his breathing stressed. Heavy exhales whistled in his asteline nose.

She truly had no idea. She dared to look up at him. "I don't know. It wasn't on any of the schematics."

"I need to get a signal to our forces," he hissed. "I can't do that this deep. I need options, cadet, and I need them _now._"

"They collapsed the tunnel. There's no going back to the labs," she offered.

Balash gritted his teeth. "I _know_ they collapsed the tunnels. I need to know how far it is to the cavern exit."

She shook her head. "I don't know. They haven't shown me where it is."

His hand curled into a fist, as if he was ready to strike her in his frustration. It would not have been the first time an overunit had taken out frustrations that way. "What about the radio system?" he pressed. "Can you make a link if I can get you access?"

Of course she could, she thought, offended that he had to even ask that question. "Yes," she said, answering with a complete affirmative, "but they're watching me. They'd know right away something was wrong." She glanced down to see his other fist ball in anger. "If I may, sir, why don't you just wait until your group leaves to signal our forces?"

He looked at her like she did not have a brain in her head. "Because," he said, "I'm in the last group to leave. I want every scrap of this menagerie rounded up and taken into custody as soon as possible. I'm willing to concede the ones that have already made it out of here, but I want to see Tobias and her people hanging from the rafters of the Great Hall. You're going to help me make sure that happens. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she answered automatically, though it was not as solid a tone as she would have normally used.

He must have been able to see the conflict in her eyes. His face hardened at the realization. "It's your _duty_, cadet. Never forget your oath of loyalty to your lord. Ever."

Jennifer straightened, realizing there was a slouch in her posture that overunits could spot in a second. It indicated doubt and laziness, two qualities that were unacceptable in the Youth Corps. Once a cadet was labeled with those traits, it was difficult to gain redemption. The overunits came down hard on the youth who suffered that blame, riding them relentlessly until some quit and were reassigned to menial duties, starting with garbage detail and corpse processing.

"Yes, sir," she said again, only this time more forcefully and confident. She did not feel confident inside, but she willed her demeanor to show the overunit exactly what he wanted to see.

"That's better," he commended, chastising her. "I'll get to the radio somehow. You be ready to take whatever action is necessary to put an end to this operation. I'll meet you with further instructions in an hour," he said.

Balash turned on his heel and quickly moved away from her, rejoining a group of refugees in an effort to fit in with the crowd. Her heart galloped in the wake of the confrontation. She was dangerously near the crossroads of decision Tobias had been preaching. There was duty in question, true, but a duty to what? Balash had clearly spelled out his intention to see everyone executed. The punishment, though, seemed much harsher than the crime had been. There had been no exchange of arms. Certainly, the groups of people Tobias had been smuggling were not the warrior types. They were very old or infirm, mothers, and children – hardly an effective fighting force.

She picked her way through the clusters of waiting people until she was able to return to the cargo container where Tobias waited. She could have sworn it had gotten colder in the cave. Perhaps it was that the chill had finally penetrated her bones. So, too, was the possibility that her body was overreacting to one stressful moment after another. Jennifer feared that Doctor Tobias would be able to tell something was wrong. Part of her wanted so much to tell the doctor about Overunit Balash, although she was not sure why. Perhaps it was that Tobias seemed to have all the answers to all the problems a young cadet faced. It was not like Tobias did not know Lord Dread was coming to shut everything down and take prisoners. That was why they were in the cave, on the run. It was something more intangible for Jennifer, something that she could not fully explain but felt with every nerve in her body. The conflict was strong, roiling back and forth in her brain like an ocean wave, uncontrollable and perpetual.

Chief Bofor was still there, discussing evacuation options. "We just got word that the next waystation is having issues with its comms." He paused, trying to find a good way to say what he had to say. "I'm sorry, but I think Ian should go with the next group out and get the comms up and running. We can't afford to be down a link."

Tobias looked at her son. "Are you okay with that?" she asked.

Ian gave a look of scorn. "No," he said sharply.

Jennifer knew why he was not thrilled at the idea. While Ian did not know that Overunit Balash was in the mountain with them, they all knew the odds were good that their fortune in moving refugees was likely to be compromised at some point. It was why Tobias had told the chief she would stay until the end, and it was why Ian was so reluctant to leave. They might never see one another again when it all broke loose.

"I understand you don't want to go," Tobias consoled, "but Chief Bofor is right – we need that link." She reached out and touched his face. "People are depending on us."

The chief ran with the decision, though solemn and understanding that it was not something Ian had anticipated. His training had taught him that to discuss a decision too much caused second guessing and ultimately clouded what needed to be done. "You'll leave in twenty with the next group," he said grimly. "Get your gear, and meet me at the step-off."

Ian looked bewildered, with an unspoken desperation to stay with the only family he had ever known. He had been summarily outvoted without so much as one word in edgewise to the decision. It was their moment of separation. Ian had spent his life with Tobias, growing up under her wing, never knowing that he was her son, never knowing he truly belonged to someone who cared for him because he was a legacy. The gravity of telling him to leave without her was not lost on Doctor Tobias. She knew exactly what she was asking of him, that there was an even chance they would never see one another again. She took hold of his hand.

"No matter what happens, don't come back here," she told him, her voice breaking as she finished. "If I don't meet up with you, you keep moving and stay safe. Do you understand me?"

Ian's chin quivered, and his eyes glistened with tears as he nodded a promise. He looked like he wanted to say a million words to her, but the words were more locked than ever. They were trapped in his brain and heart, silently screaming to be heard.

Doctor Tobias looked away and swallowed hard. When she returned to him, she sniffed and reached for him, embracing him with strong arms. He went to her willingly. He, too, held on tightly to her and buried his head in her shoulder. She patted his back, soothing him as his sobs finally won out and silently wracked him. She let him cry, let all the years of confusion and turmoil come forward in the form of tears that wet her shoulder. The dark spot looked like a brand on her soul for all to see.

"I am so sorry," she whispered in his ear. "So sorry," she said again, "for everything. Please forgive me, Ian."

Jennifer stood there, uncomfortable with what was transpiring. She felt an inexplicable twinge inside her gut that scared her. It was unlike anything she had ever known all her life. There was no name for it, no reference point she could identify, but it was a storm of everything she had ever felt. Loss, longing, failure, anger, fear – it seemed to be a combination every negative emotion she had ever experienced in her life, all welling into one feeling that overwhelmed her and took control of her very being.

Her only consolation was to see Chief Bofor reacting like she felt. It was an awkward moment they were watching, like emotional voyeurs privy to a moment between mother and son. The chief looked away, concentrating his sight somewhere else – anywhere but on Ian and Doctor Tobias. Jennifer did the same, wanting to walk away from it. Mercifully, the moment ended when Doctor Tobias urged Ian to stand straight again.

"Get your tools," she told him. "You do what you do best, and get them working."

Ian did as he was told, turning from her to leave. He took a few steps and looked back at Doctor Tobias. She nodded to him, encouraging him to keep going. Any more lingering would just make it harder to leave. Chief Bofor clapped a hand on Ian's shoulder and urged him to go, walking with him into the next room of the cavern.

Tobias waited until Ian was out of sight before she sank back against the cargo container and put her hands to her eyes. Her breath quavered as she took deep gulps of air and let it out, not caring that Jennifer could see the weak emotions play out in her view. The doctor's loss of control over the situation and her ability to protect Ian was the crux of her pain, Jennifer knew. Tobias liked control, demanded it in every situation. She commanded Alaceda with her own rules and values, deciding what was important and what was not, who would live and who would not. Ian had been important enough to spare, in the doctor's opinion. Understandably so, for he was made from her very being, her genetic contributions to his life a secret even he had not known. Tobias had used her cunning and skill to goad the leader of the machine world to spare the life of a lesser individual. While Lord Dread probably had not suffered any ill effects from the action, Doctor Tobias had gained much in the way of confidence to manipulate the rules and to do things as she saw fit without regard for the empire and its mission of machine perfection.

It was an admirable stance, Jennifer thought, that the doctor said what she believed and took actions to make it a reality. There was no wondering what she thought about Lord Dread and the empire, no doubt as to her fondness of Ian and her comaradie with Chief Bofor. All of that was acceptable and good, unless the doctor disagreed with something. Then, it akin to a calling for her to change minds and philosophies until it fit her sense of right and wrong. She was not the only one guilty of that. Chief Bofor was her willing accomplice, and Ian had known nothing else.

Likewise, the empire and the Youth were all that Jennifer had known. It was everything in her life, and she had been so loyal and adamant about it that she had risen through the lofty ranks awarded to those who served Lord Dread with fervor and tenacity. How could Doctor Tobias have expected her to just disregard all that, to throw it all away?

The thought of Overunit Balash shot to the fore of her thoughts again. What was she going to do about him? Her duty directed that she support her superior in any way possible, but Jennifer had never inflicted death on anyone. She knew it lay in her future to do battle with the rebels, but there had been no lesson to cover issuing a death warrant to people she knew. Chief Bofor, though certainly not her favorite among the group at Alaceda, was loyal to Doctor Tobias and was willing to follow through with orders given him by his superior. He was strong, even if he was fighting for the enemy and not the empire he had been falsely a part of for many years. He believed in what he was doing, with much more conviction than Jennifer felt she would ever know in a lifetime. He would follow Doctor Tobias wherever she went, protecting her, doing the difficult things to propogate their mission to save people, no matter who they were. Likewise, Overunit Balash would do whatever it took to bring all of them into custody.

It dawned on her in that very second that she was likely to be arrested with all of them and charged with treason, even though she had done her best given the circumstances to uphold her duty. There would be no way she could prove she had done all she could because she knew she had not. Jennifer had lingered and dwelled on the things Doctor Tobias had said to her and had given them more consideration than a good soldier should have. They were logical distractions from the mission, resulting in time to think and consider the consequences to her actions. Everything seemed to have a consequence, and surely not all of them were good. As she thought it through, she decided that nothing good could come of Overunit Balash's presence or his plan to take them into custody. It was as more a matter of her own survival than that of anyone else. She was not about to accept her fate as being like that of the others. She would not suffer the pains of interrogation or confinement in hellish compartments too small for the number of prisoners inside it, groveling for the gruel that was poured down a chute and eaten by dirty hands. The likes of Mercury were not destined to become a feast in her envisioned future, a future that caused her heart to flutter with fear and anxiety.

Doctor Tobias quieted and straightened, wiping at her eyes. She looked at Jennifer, seeing the questions but not knowing really what they were.

"Why don't you go help Ian pack up the gear?"

It was a command Jennifer did not expect. "Is that so I can say goodbye to him?"

"No," Doctor Tobias answered. "It's so he can say goodbye to you."


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Yowzers, going back to school really cuts into my writing time! Alas, here it is in all its unedited glory... just like the previous 20 chapters! As always, thanks for reading. If you have a moment, I always appreciate reviews. It's kind of like getting a letter in the mail when you're a little kid, only it's not so fake on here. :)**

**Chapter 21**

The cavern was not as full of people as it had been. Four groups of five remained – twenty refugees looking to escape a fate prescribed to them by the new law of the world, the machine empire. They had broken off into their respective groups, the strong conspiring with the weaker ones as to what responsibilities each would assume once they were on their way to the next station in the network. Chief Bofor had assigned them according to ability, so that the stronger ones could help the weaker as they traversed the terrain outside the mountain. They carried nothing with them except small children. All valuables had been confiscated when the refugees were initially taken into custody. All of that property had been thoroughly searched for intelligence and any useful information that would reveal more of the rebel architecture.

It was not that Jennifer had been there to witness all that happening. She knew it was standard procedure, the evidence of which sat on the floor of the cave. They had nothing, every possession they had ever had except clothing stripped of their ownership. They looked as tired as she felt, weary of the stress and pressure of their intention to escape. In a way, she was in the same circumstance as they, although she doubted any of the refugees would admit her to their circle. They saw her brown shirt and its insignia that told them she was from Lord Dread's empire, in his service and that of the machines. She could see the loathing, the hate in their eyes for her. While she had not done anything to them, they saw her as a cog in the proverbial machine that had put them in their predicament. They had no use for all the lessons she had memorized or her reasoning why machines were perfect. They lived in the moment, caring only that what they had known was gone. They gave no thought to the future except for the part that pertained to their existence.

As she stepped around their small clusters, she saw Overunit Balash look up from where he huddled with the rest. He stared at her as she passed by, just like the others, but with completely different intentions. No one knew he was an infiltrator and so much more dangerous that a lowly cadet sent to spy on a woman who was already wise to the scheme. Balash was their death sentence, mingling with them like a poison that would bring them their demise before they even knew it was happening if he had a chance to complete his mission.

Her eyes locked to the overunit's as she walked by him. The skin on the calf of her leg tingled as she half-expected him to reach out and grab hold of her. He didn't, though, allowing her to pass without incident. Jennifer turned her head when she was far enough away to avoid any brand of suspicion that she knew him. She felt his gaze on her, pursuing her until she rounded a corner and was out of his sight. Her heart pounded, thumping heavily in her chest and pulsing painfully into sides of her neck.

Jennifer stopped and leaned against the cave wall, closing her eyes, trying to control her breathing that was heavy and stressed. It felt like she could not get enough air into her lungs to satisfy her anxiety. It took everything she had to bring it under control, but not before she felt a tingling in her face that said she had hyperventilated in her paranoia. The clarity of her fear was so distinct in the moment when she realized what had literally scared her – she was already guilty. Overunit Balash had lumped her in with the refugees. Everything she had feared to that point was fast becoming a reality. He would tell Lord Dread that she had betrayed the empire and the machines. She had failed in her mission and had actually helped the enemy succeed in ferrying illegals out of a secure facility. Everything she had ever hoped to be was going to be dashed away, and she would end up lost in the depths of a penal facility, subject to the same punishments as the rebels she had so long trained to fight. It was all coming to a fast end, just as fast as her heart was beating and her breathing was churning. Her ears were awash in a noise that was like an ocean wave, building in a furious whooshing sound that jogged merrily along with the rest of her autonomic responses until all of the chaos congealed into a massive assault on her body.

The warm hand on her arm almost sent her over the edge. She jumped and let out a stifled yelp, opening her eyes to see who was trying to take custody of her, prepared to do whatever it took to escape.

Chief Bofor stood there, looking down at her, actually concerned. "You okay, kid?" he said, his voice the most kind she had heard it since coming to Alaceda.

If she had any bravado left, Jennifer had no idea where it was hiding. She looked up at him, seeing him in a different light. There was something about him to be admired. He did not show fear. He rebeled against it as a rule, a quality she wished she knew how to do so well. He was a protector, someone who would fight for what he believed was right and not worry what others thought.

The pulse in her neck raged even more, spreading down between her shoulder blades where the cold of the cavern wall seemed to arrest it.

"It's the cave," she lied quickly, hoping it was enough to ward an interrogation. "I guess I just haven't gotten used to being inside a mountain after all this time."

"Really?" he said, not buying her explanation. "I ask because you look like someone just scared the hell out of you, and it wasn't me… for once."

"Why would you even care if I was afraid of something?" she snapped. "I'd think you'd rather enjoy it."

He shrugged and breathed deeply, letting it out slowly in contemplation. "You're probably right, but you don't have a clue why I don't like you. You just think I'm mean to you because it's fun. While that's somewhat true, my reasons for not liking you are a lot bigger than you can comprehend, Cadet."

Jennifer leaned her head against the cold stone of the cave, tired of the verbal battles with the chief. She felt it through to her bones, the weariness infiltrating every joint in her body, it seemed. "Nothing I say will be correct or what you want to hear, so why try to answer?"

"Weak," he said, chastising her argument. He snorted with contempt. "You can't even stand up for yourself."

"I'm a little outnumbered," she countered. "If I remember correctly, you had a blaster to my head a few hours ago. Your reasons for not liking me seem trivial after all that, whatever they are."

Chief Bofor crossed his arms, rolling back on his heels, thinking. He looked down at her, studying her. "I would have done it, you know," he said. His demeanor changed, as though he was talking to her as an equal. "I would have done it and wouldn't have lost a minute of sleep over it."

"I'm touched," she groused.

"I would have done it," he said in a corrective tone, "because it would have meant protecting innocent people."

She closed her eyes, so tired.

"Twelve years ago," he said sharply, bringing her attention full again, "I would have done it for fun." He leaned in close to her. "I would have done it because you're weak and have no place in the empire or Lord Dread's service."

Now he had her undivided attention and ire. He had struck a nerve so acute in her that she stood straight and came eye to eye to him. How dare he insult her loyalty!

"I've done everything Lord Dread has ever wished. I'm a loyal soldier," she said hotly.

"You're nothing more than a confused teenager who has one hell of a lot of doubts. That's why Tobias hasn't given up on you. She thinks there's this little shred of hope," he said, displaying a pinch with his index finger and thumb, "that you're going to wake up and see the truth, that there's a chance she's going to be able to save you."

"I didn't ask to be saved!" she retorted. "I had a clear mission when I came here."

"Which you've failed miserably to complete," Chief Bofor answered sharply. "You've had a dozen opportunities to bring this place to its knees, but you didn't. You have _got _to start asking yourself why," he said emphatically.

"So I can be like you - always on the run, always under suspicion?"

His features softened, and the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly. "So you can be free," he said, as if it was the most perfect answer in the world. "That's something you can't even comprehend. I know because I was just like you once, believe it or not."

Jennifer saw the same old line coming her way and had no way of avoiding it. She stood tall, undaunted. "Let me guess – Doctor Tobias showed you the way?"

"No," he said gently, "I'd already found the truth by the time I got here. She just helped me to do something about it."

"She helped you to join the rebels," Jennifer summarized, with no attempt to keep the tone of the remark in check.

"She helped to silence the screams," the chief said, his face becoming very serious and sincere.

Jennifer stood there, at a loss to his meaning. He saw she did not understand.

"I was a trooper before the mechs took over. We were in charge of rounding up anyone who opposed Taggart in any way. We threw them in concentration camps that make this cave look like a palace. At night," he said, almost in a whisper as his eyes strayed in reverie, "all you heard were the screams of people in pain. Some were being tortured for information. Others were wounded in battle."

He focused on her again. "One night, it hit me. I realized those were people, human beings, just like I was. After that, it started to eat at me. I barely slept because all I could hear was the screaming in my head. I'd wake up in a cold sweat hearing sounds from people who weren't even alive anymore."

He pushed his hands into his pockets and looked down at his boots. "So, for me, there are only two options – you're either for the freedom of people, or," and he looked up at her, "you're with the machines. And _that_ is why I could have pulled the trigger, Cadet. Some day, I hope you understand that."

"And what if I don't?" Jennifer asked, testing the limits of his patience.

"Then," he said, "Doctor Tobias will at least be able to say that she tried. Sometimes, that's as good as it gets in this world."

The thought of Overunit Balash crept into the fore of her mind. There was a part of her that wanted to tell Chief Bofor about the infiltration, but he had been right that she had failed in her mission. It was possible she could still salvage part of it, but at what cost? Either way, she would choose the demise of someone; for there was no doubt in her mind that Chief Bofor would dispatch an overunit without hesitation, and Balash would do the same to Bofor given the chance.

"I'm supposed to go see Ian," she told him plainly, her anger in check again.

"You best make it quick," he advised, granting her a release from the confrontation. "His group is leaving in a few minutes, and we have to keep a tight schedule."

She nodded and moved away from the cave, stepping around him toward the supply area.

"Jennifer," he called out to her, using her name for the first time, ever.

She turned to look at him.

"Don't get to the point where you hear the screams. That's not something you want in your head for the rest of your life. Trust me on that."

He was being sincere with her. She could see it on his face and in his eyes that the warning was genuine, although there was little she could do with it. It was possible she would never know fully what he meant anyway. Jennifer just nodded an acknowledgement and turned to where Ian was waiting down the corridor.

She found Ian hunkered over a small crate on the floor, packing technical supplies into it. He was methodically placing each instrument into the case so that it maximized the available room. He turned each one, deciding which angle would fit most efficiently into the small space. He looked up at her for a moment and smiled.

"B-bet you're glad to s-see me g-go," he said, finishing with a small laugh.

Jennifer's shoulders rose slightly and dropped. She was not really sure how she felt about Ian leaving. _Neutral_ was the word that came to mind.

He rose and neared her. He looked down at her, his blonde hair glowing in the soft cavern lights. He looked at her for a long moment, about a second short of being an uncomfortable amount of time. "D-don't give up," he said.

"On what?" she asked quietly.

"Whatever it is y-you believe."

Ian did not qualify what he meant. It was left purely up to Jennifer's interpretation. He turned from her and bent over to pick up the equipment case.

"Need any help?" she asked, trying to be civil.

He shook his head no and resumed packing the supplies.

"So, that's it?" she asked. "You're just going to leave because she told you?"

"N-no," he said, "I'm l-leaving b-because people need help."

Ian put the last component into the case and snapped the lid closed. He set it next to a backpack containing more supplies. He closed the pack and paused, as he sometimes did when trying to form words in his head.

"Come with me," he said finally, not missing a syllable in his offer. His blue eyes were sharp and determined. He meant what he said. He wanted her to go on the run with him, to change sides and join the rebel cause.

"No," she said, although she tried to be as gentle about it as she could. "Ian, I know how strongly you believe in what you're doing, but it's not who I am. Please try to understand that."

Ian was about to argue when she heard footsteps behind her. Chief Bofor approached and nodded to him.

"You ready?" Bofor asked, hitching up the belt that held the holstered blaster.

Ian nodded. He looked at Jennifer. "W-walk w-with me, then?"

Jennifer glanced at Chief Bofor, unsure what she was allowed to do.

Bofor was nonplussed at her concern. "Why not? I think we've established what will happen if you try anything stupid," he said, tapping the butt of the blaster.

She could not help but smile at the irony of his answer. "More times than I care to count."

"The group is ready," Bofor informed them. "We better get a move on before we lose that radio network."

Ian picked up the backpack and slipped his arms into the straps, hiking it upward on his shoulders and cinching up the slack until it was snug. Bofor attached the equipment box to the top of the pack, just behind Ian's head.

They entered the rally area, where a group of five refugees, mostly elderly or infirm, waited nervously for their turn to escape the mountain. Mason and Dixon, Tobias' personal mechanical pets, stood ready to move. Jennifer took a nervous inventory of the group, not seeing Overunit Balash among them. She felt a strange relief that he had not been selected to the next group out of the mountain. She was not sure she could have continued the charade that she did not know who he was or what he was there to do.

Jennifer looked for Tobias, but she was not in view at all. It was like she completely cut ties with Ian and the refugees. It was an efficient move, Jennifer thought, as there was no sense in prolonging any difficulty there might have been separating Ian from her control. The doctor had given an order, and it was meant to be followed without any hesitation. Orders were not to be questioned, and Tobias had definitely issued one for Ian to leave with the next group. She saw him glance furtively to where she might have been standing to wish him one more farewell, but only cold stone greeted his eyes. She saw a flash of disappointment on the young man's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had disappeared.

Bofor started the group moving through the tunnel. It was wider than the one they had used leaving the lab area. There was room enough for people to walk three abreast, which was a little more comfortable and not so suffocating. There was hardly a word among them as the chief led the group with a lone torch that bounced light off the red and slate colored rock. The sound of shuffling feet on dirt was chaotic and individual, not orderly like soldiers marched. Every person seemed to walk at a different pace, according to their abilities, fraught with age and injury. Jennifer found herself keeping step Mason and Dixon out of habit. Eventually, the shallow whispers died off until only the footsteps remained.

Offshoot tunnels occasionally intersected with the main tunnel, although it was not clear where they led, if they went anywhere at all. There were no lights down their ways, just inky black that seemed like oblivion. She could only imagine the network Tobias had created in the caverns to facilitate her rebel operations.

Sometimes there were large boulders that sat along the walkway at odd intervals and with no rhyme or reason why they would not have been moved when the tunnel was created, unless...

Jennifer punished herself mentally as she realized the purpose of the boulders was to provide a point of cover in an otherwise barren passageway. They served as fire positions, she realized, as she began to note their consistent distance from one another – every thirty strides. The boulders were large enough for at least two people to hide behind and use for cover. It was no doubt Chief Bofor's work, Jennifer thought. Tobias was smart, but she was not combat-oriented like Bofor.

"You like our little set up?" Bofor asked, as though he had been reading her mind.

"Very well-planned," she said, though it was not really meant to be a compliment.

Bofor was not fazed. "You know you almost had it all figured out, right?" he asked.

She knew almost instantly what he was referring to, as it all started to fall into place. "This is how you smuggle refugees out of the labs," she stated.

"Yep," he said with pride. "Doctor Tobias's idea. She bags 'em and tags 'em like their dead garbage. Down the chute they go to the reclamation center. Then, Mason and Dixon take them to the exit to hopefully live out long lives. Pretty damned ingenious if you ask me."

"Clever," Jennifer mustered, though she had to admit the system was almost perfect. Unless someone made it a mission to closely examine the refuse data, it would all remain unnoticed.

"I think so, too," Bofor said with pride.

They fell silent again, which seemed quite timely in Jennifer's opinion. She had no desire to listen to the chief boast about the accomplishments of the rebel network. She was content to continue on to wherever she was being forced to go, during which time she managed to clear her mind of the millions of thoughts swirling in it. She concentrated on keeping step with the mechs and the consistency it brought. They walked for almost twenty minutes at a slow but steady pace before the chief held up his hand and turned to the group to halt their progress.

"Okay," he said in a hushed tone, "everyone hold up here."

He turned and removed anonymous rock inserts from the wall that would have been hidden to the unknowing eye. He, on the other hand, seemed to know their exact location without error. He dropped the rock coverings to his left. One port hid a control panel much like the one in Alaceda. The other revealed a curved hand hold. Bofor activated the security system. Several heavy locks disengaged with the sound of metal on metal sliding home. He planted his foot on the cave wall again and grabbed the hand hold, pulling with a heavy grunt. The doorway opened, revealing a decent sized cave area that formed another large tunnel. Daylight shone in the distance, the exit to freedom.

Bofor motioned to Mason and Dixon. They stepped through the doorway and scanned the area for any signs of predators. Dixon gave the all-clear to Bofor and took a guarding stance on either side of the doorway.

"Okay, let's go. That's the way out," he told them. "Once you get up there," he said, pointing to the mouth of the cave, "you'll meet up with your guide. Do exactly what he tells you, and you'll all be okay. Any questions?"

The chief waited, giving ample opportunity for anyone to raise a query. Nobody spoke. So, he began ushering them carefully through the doorway, making sure each one crossed the threshold without tripping, until only Ian remained.

Bofor looked at him in the glow of the torch. "Watch out for those patrols, you hear me? Get that radio fixed. I'll make sure the doc gets out safe and sound."

The chief held out his hand. Ian eagerly shook it firmly.

"Take care of yourself, boy," Bofor said. There was an unexpected fondness in the chief's tone.

"Th-thanks for everything, Chief," Ian said. "I l-learned a l-lot from you."

The chief gave a crooked smile, embarrassed to receive a compliment. "Get going, now. Like the doc said, don't you come back here. No matter what happens, you keep moving."

"Y-yes, sir."

Ian looked at Jennifer one more time. She thought he might ask her to come with him one last time, but he seemed to accept the fact that she would not. While the passageway meant freedom, it could also look like she had abandoned her mission and had not completed the task given her by Lord Dread. She thought maybe he understood that, how important her job was.

"Bye," he said simply, almost in a whisper.

He turned and crossed the doorway, walking briskly to the head of the group to lead it to the cave exit. His silhouette bobbed from side to side, accented at odd angles by his backpack and the equipment box on top that squared his head. Chief Bofor watched with diligence until he saw the guide waiting at the other end step into view. One by one, the group continued on, disappearing down an incline on their way to the next safe house. She could see both Ian and the guide help each refugee step down out of view until only Ian was left. Though she was sure he could not see into the darkness of the cave, she saw him raise his hand in a final farewell. Jennifer saw the chief raise his hand in return. Then his fist curled up, and he lowered his arm. When Ian vanished down the slope, the chief called for Mason and Dixon to fall back into the corridor.

It took less time to close the door and put back into place the rocks that secreted the panel and handle. Mason and Dixon stood there, dispassionate as they should have been, waiting for their orders from Chief Bofor.

"All right, you two," he grumbled to them, "let's head back."

Their return progress was considerably faster without the refugees. Bofor walked at a decent clip. He called a halt to the march when they reached the first offshoot tunnel.

"Mason, Dixon," he called, "sweep the tunnels. We'll meet you at the first rendezvous."

The mechs obediently turned into a tunnel to the right, the way lit by the red glow of their chest plates. She saw them split off in the darkness, where there was presumably a Y intersection beyond the reach of her sight in the darkness.

Bofor tapped Jennifer on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "Let's go, kid."

She did as she was told, walking along with the chief, keeping in step with him.

"I can't figure you out," he said, finally. "I thought you'd use Ian to get the hell out of here."

"You wouldn't have approved," she answered. "Perhaps you would have made the point with a blaster for real this time."

"Approved? No," Bofor said. "I was told to let you make your own decision when we got there, though. Seems to me like you have unfinished business."

"You know I do," Jennifer said, irritated.

"But is it a job you can really finish?" the chief pressed. "No matter how you walk away from this, there'll be questions you can't answer, at least not to that moron's satisfaction," he said, referring to Lord Dread.

She clasped her hands behind her back as she walked. "If I walk away now, I won't be able to answer any questions at all."

Something moved ahead of them, dashing across the tunnel in the distant reach of the torch light. They both saw it. Bofor raised an arm horizontally in front of her to stop her forward progress. He drew his blaster and brought the torch up with it, shining it ahead of the weapon like a pointer.

"We have company," Bofor said quietly. He motioned with his head for her to follow him in deliberate steps as they moved toward the area where the figure had disappeared behind one of the strategically placed boulders meant to help repel an invading force.

They closed in on the boulder, because it was the only place available. There were no side tunnels in which to escape, and a retreat would have been in full view. Bofor kept the blaster trained toward the large rock as he neared it, stopping a few feet from the outer edge. Jennifer stayed a step behind him. If she could not take a proactive stance, she would at least be able to react effectively no matter what happened, she calculated.

"Come on out of there," Bofor said in a loud, clear voice. He kept the light and the blaster trained on the edge of the boulder. "I said come on out," he repeated, a bit more agitated.

A shaking, dirty hand rose into view in surrender from behind the boulder.

"Hey," Bofor said, more friendly, seeing it was a refugee. He stepped to within a foot of the boulder holstered his weapon. He held out his hand to help the intruder stand. "Sorry. Not your turn yet, buddy."

Then, a cloaked head – Overunit Balash's head - appeared. Before Jennifer could utter a sound of warning, Balash took hold of the chief's hand. She saw the flash of a blade in the wavering light of the torch as Balash's other hand rose up, planting the blade deep into Chief Bofor's abdomen. Balash stood fully and withdrew the blade, plunging it deep for a second wound.

Bofor dropped the torch, bent over in shock at the assault. The light rolled on the ground, throwing wild shadows on the cave walls. She saw the shapes struggle as Chief Bofor grappled with Balash. She heard the whine of the blaster power up and was momentarily blinded by the flash of a discharge. Balash cried out in anguish as the two men continued to brawl.

They both tumbled to the floor. Bofor fell on top of Balash. The chief gave another tormented bark as Balash's knife pushed deeper into the wound, perforating the chief's back.

Overunit Balash scrambled from under the weight of the chief and scampered away from the altercation. Bofor, still in control of the blaster, rolled and fired again, hitting the overunit in the back of the right thigh. Balash kept his balance and hobbled down the hall at the best speed he could manage until he vanished into the blackness of the tunnel.

Bofor's arm landed heavily on the dirt floor of the tunnel, all his energy sapped from the struggle. Jennifer saw the red blood on his coveralls, emerging quickly across his torso as his free hand went to the hilt of the knife that was still lodged in his body. She stood there, frozen in shock at the speed of the assault and how quickly blows had been exchanged. The chief was breathing hard, beating down vocalization of his pain.

Jennifer approached him carefully, looking over her shoulder and listening for Balash's return. She knew the overunit would keep going, heading toward the direction of the mountain's secret exit. All he had to do was get near it to get be able to get a good signal out to the forces lying in wait outside the mountain. They just needed to know the most efficient way to get inside, and then they would have the rebels trapped, including Doctor Tobias.

Cold sweat beaded on the chief's forehead. She knelt down and picked up the light so that she could see the damage more clearly. The moment she did, she wished she had not. Balash had struck with deadly precision. From the amount of blood pooling around Chief Bofor, the knife had no doubt hit an artery. Bofor blinked rapidly and began trying to dislodge the knife. Jennifer instinctively stopped him, prying his fingers off the hilt.

"Don't. It'll only make it worse," she said, her training mercifully kicking in and distracting her from the shock of the entire incident.

The chief stifled another bellow as a wave of pain attacked his nerves. The bleeding was getting worse, weeping out in a steady flow that collected in dark puddles in the dirt. Jennifer unbuttoned and removed her shirt, twirling it to make a tube of cloth. She wrapped it around the knife to stabilize it and provide pressure on the wound. The cold air of the cave rained down on her bare shoulders, her thin tank top not enough to stave off the natural chill of the earth. She railed against it and the stress she felt. They needed help, but the only real help was in the main cavern hundreds of feet away from them. Furthermore, she had no way of getting Chief Bofor there.

"I'm going for help," she told him decisively.

She began to rise, but he grabbed her arm.

"No," he said through gritted teeth.

"I can't carry you," she answered desperately. She looked him in the eyes. "I'll bring help, I promise!" she exclaimed, and she really meant it.

He managed to pat her hand that held the bandage in place, as if he understood her dilemma. "Got… a better way," he said, breathing shallow and hard. He reached into the left breast pocket of his coveralls and pulled out a control pad. "Mason… Dixon… get over here… on the double."

Bofor seemed to lose all strength to hold the controller. He dropped it on his chest and cradled it. His breathing began to come in large gulps. The tendons in his neck stood out as his jaw clamped down against the pain.

Jennifer applied steady pressure to the makeshift bandage and listened for the sound of Mason and Dixon's approach over the rough breathing of the chief, breathing that was becoming shallower by the minute. He was trembling, in shock and losing a dangerous amount of blood. Each minute that passed brought him one step closer to his end.

"Chief?" she said, calling out his name, but there was no reply. He was slipping fast.

After what seemed an eon, she heard the staccato unison steps of Mason and Dixon jogging double time as ordered down the corridor. She picked up the light and shone it down the tunnel until she saw them, their red chest plates ablaze. They came to a stop where Jennifer sat hunched over Chief Bofor. One of them looked down to assess the situation and awaited orders from the chief. He, however, was almost completely unconscious. His eyes fluttered, trying to awaken, but his body refused to comply. They stood there, their mission complete while their master lay dying on the ground.

"Get him to Doctor Tobias!" Jennifer said, her frustration finally bursting.

They hesitated, and she knew why. Their algorithms were deciding if her orders were to be followed. It did not matter how Tobias had reprogrammed them or what modifications had been done to their logic. Their processing remained the same. The only question was how their workflow would respond to her command, if she had any validity at all to them.

Just the few seconds it took for one of them to decide seemed interminable, but the one closest to Chief Bofor knelt down and lifted the man in its arms with ease, standing as though the chief weighed nothing. The second mech took possession of Jennifer's upper arm, its cold fingers clamping around her bicep with force. She knew in that instant she was a prisoner until the mech was commanded otherwise. Jennifer lost control of the flashlight as the mech launched her into an upright position. The torch clattered on the cave floor and rolled away from them.

The first mech began moving down the corridor, back toward the cavern. Its steps picked up in speed. The second mech followed in the same, manner, forcing Jennifer to keep pace. The light faded behind them as they moved further away from it. Then they were plunged into complete darkness in a race against time and against the Dread forces that she knew would soon be finding their way into the mountain.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

The path back to the cavern seemed so much longer than it had been going to the secreted exit. The pitch-black darkness was no help as Jennifer was guided through the tunnel system by her captor. She could hear the other mech ahead of them, its footfalls thumping with a heavier timbre thanks to the weight of its cargo, a gravely wounded Chief Bofor.

She wished she could see the chief's condition, but she could not even see her hand in front of her face. She knew this because she tried once the distance glow of the torchlight she had dropped behind them finally winked completely out of view. Jennifer had no point of reference of up or down, left or right. The mechs, though, could see in complete darkness. Their sensors were more than capable of letting them negotiate obstacles, even at a full run with a hostage in tow.

She tried calling out to Chief Bofor, listening for a response. There was not even a grunt of pain as he and the mech moved forward. Jennifer felt completely alone in the darkness, angry at her inability to change her situation. She needed to get closer to the mech that held the chief, but the one who had a hold of her arm would surely have ripped it from the socket if she tried to escape. She had absolutely no control over anything. She had to go along with the events she had helped put in motion.

Her legs burned with exertion. Even though the distance was not that far in terms of her stamina, there was extra stress as she constantly worked to maintain her balance with the mech. The smallest stone sent her lurching forward, only to be brought upright by the mech again.

_Too much darkness,_ she thought. Jennifer had never been fond of it, and that had not changed much since her childhood years.

She continued to listen for sounds of life from Chief Bofor, but there was nothing above the unison steps of the mechs and her own feet.

Then, ahead of them, she saw the first hint of light peering around a long curve in the tunnel. Her pace picked up, and she began pulling the mech who controlled her arm with her, trying to speed it along. She saw Chief Bofor's legs bobbing with each step of the mech who carried him. They were like limp ropes, all muscle tone gone. Jennifer could not see his face to tell if he was even remotely awake. All she knew for sure was that help for him was just around the corner. She endeavored to run as fast as she could, despite the uncooperative nature of her lungs that now burned with exhaustion and legs that felt numb with exertion.

"Somebody help us!"

She was yelling it as loud as she could as she fought for the breath to form the words. Jennifer yelled it again and again until her voice was hoarse. The tunnel light grew stronger as they rounded the bend, but it seemed an eternity before they would get back to the cavern.

Finally, she saw shadows on the wall from around the bend. Several human-shaped shadows moved in quick succession down the tunnel. She saw the disjointed beams of torch lights bounce off the cave walls, glistening in places where mountain water sluiced down through the contours of the rock.

"Over here!" she yelled, although the words were barely a croak as she gulped air and willed her legs to keep moving, one in front of the other. "Over here..." she continued, so tired but spurned on by the welfare of Chief Bofor. There had been so much blood, so much. Jennifer thought she heard her name being called, but her senses were doing a chaotic dance that mixed one perception with another.

The level of light continued to grow stronger, and the responders continued to close in on them. Finally, she saw real bodies in the distance, not just juxtaposed shadows on inanimate rock. Among them she saw the distinct outline and robes of Doctor Tobias leading the pack. Jennifer pushed forward, feeling her body near the limit of its physical ability as she practically dragged her captor mech with her. She could feel the genesis of a deep muscle bruise as the machine endeavored to maintain its grip on her arm. She used the pain as motivation to keep moving. The faster they reached the responders, the faster she could explain the situation and gain physical relief and help for the chief.

The more she fought, the more the mech resisted her, slowing her down, until she was being restrained by the soldier with both arms. It lifted her off her feet with arms that wrapped solidly around her torso. It was an escalated response to her attempts to tear free of the machine's control. Jennifer tried to kick out of it as she watched the other mech move forward with the chief in its arms, but she lacked both the strength and body mass to do much more than flail helplessly in her own mech's grasp.

Sporadic light beams passed over the entourage as their rescuer approached with their own lights, blinding Jennifer's vision with each sweep. She heard Doctor Tobias order the mech carrying the chief to halt, an order it obeyed immediately. She took a fleeting look down at the wounded man and ordered the mech to continue on to the cavern double time. Tobias looked toward Jennifer, seeing the struggle as one of the rebels focused a light on the fight

"Let her go!" she ordered in a loud voice as she began to follow Bofor back to the cavern.

It complied and dropped Jennifer to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to catch up with Tobias and Bofor.

"Are you hurt?" Tobias asked with sincere urgency as they ran.

Jennifer shook her head in the negative, the words trapped in between strained inhalations.

"Are you sure?" the doctor asked, adamantly repeating the question.

"I'm fine," Jennifer responded, her breath still so quick she could barely get the words to sound. She coughed as a dry patch in her throat caught and seemed to rip tender flesh.

"What happened?" Tobias pressed.

The coughing spasms came under control. "An overunit was in the tunnel," she croaked. "Stabbed him."

Shock washed across Tobias' face. "What?" she hissed. Her pace increased, but she did not ask for further explanation.

They continued forward until they came to the high archway of the cavern. Refugees had gathered in curiosity at the entrance, gawking at the commotion. Jennifer saw their eyes move from one member of the entourage to another, starting with Bofor. In the light, she saw in full view the shocking red that covered most of Bofor's torso. The more light became available, the more she wished she were still in the dark tunnel where she did not have to look at the damage Balash had inflicted.

Tobias directed the mech to a row of cargo crates and ordered it to place the chief upon them.

"Easy," she admonished the machine as it followed orders. She pushed her fingers into the slit fabric of the chief's coveralls with both hands and pulled, ripping it apart to get at the wound.

Jennifer moved to the other side of the crates for a better view. She looked at Bofor's face. It was blanched, a startling shade of white. His lips had no color, and she saw no movement. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly agape so that she could his lower set of teeth.

Doctor Tobias gasped quietly at the sight of the wounds, one still filled with the blade of the dagger. The crimson emblem of Lord Dread's empire was visible only by its raised relief on the handle. Its true color was obscured with the chief's blood that covered the golden textured grip. The hilt was flush to the skin of his abdomen, accompanied by the first wound that Balash had inflicted. They were deep wounds. The edges of the first wound were torn by the serrated blade. Jennifer knew how dangerous the blades were. She had been trained extensively in their use. She had done nearly all the requirements to be honored with her own blade upon graduation, each one adorned with the empire's glowing symbol and bestowed as a customized gift from Lord Dread, himself.

It took a moment for Jennifer to realize that Tobias had stopped all attempts to minister to the chief's wounds. The doctor stood there, hands at her sides, red and wet. She said nothing, just watching the cadet.

"Why are you stopping?" Jennifer asked, suddenly irritated that Doctor Tobias was not doing what she could for the enlisted man.

"There's nothing to be done," Tobias said quietly.

That was impossible, Jennifer thought. They had been running for help so soon after the attack. She had gotten Chief Bofor to her at greatest speed.

"I got him to you in time," Jennifer insisted. "You help him!" she ordered, pointing to the body.

Tobias rounded the crates so fast that Jennifer bowed back in defense. Doctor Tobias grabbed Jennifer by the back of the neck and forced her to look at Chief Bofor's still face.

"Take a good look at him, Cadet!" Tobias growled, her eyes rimmed with wetness. "Take a good look, because he is _dead_! And while you're at it, take a look at your shirt. That's his blood you're wearing, you arrogant child!"

Jennifer looked down and saw the red blotches on her white tank top. There was blood on her hands and arms, everywhere the chief had touched her and she him. She felt branded by it, shocked by its differing contrast as it ran from moist to dry. She felt panic rush through her and immediately wanted to get it off her.

"But I got him here as soon as I could," Jennifer said, her voice shaky and unsure, trying to explain that her intentions had been true. "You didn't even try to help him!"

"You tell me about that overunit," Tobias demanded, her grip tightening on Jennifer's neck, "or I swear, with God as my witness, I will toss you out with the trash where no one will find you."

Jennifer had lost her voice entirely. She was frozen with indecision. She could hardly explain how she had known about the overunit but had not alerted anyone to his presence.

"Tell me!" Tobias yelled, just short of a scream.

Jennifer flinched in the doctor's grasp. "I... I didn't know what to do," she said, trying to confess her errors. "He came in with the refugees. He was looking for the way out to alert our forces about the underground network."

"What forces?"

There was no sense in trying to lie now, Jennifer knew. What was going to happen was probably already in motion. "He couldn't get a signal out from here. He needed to be close to the outside. He must have followed us with the last group. If he got to the door, they'll be on their way," Jennifer said, the words tumbling out, one after another. "Chief Bofor wounded him," she added, "but not enough to stop him."

"Ian..." Tobias breathed. "How many are they sending?" she demanded.

"I don't know."

"How many?!" Tobias repeated, her hand clamping down hard on Jennifer's neck.

"I don't know!" Jennifer cried out, try unsuccessfully to escape the doctor's hard grasp. "Please," she begged in a flourish, desperate. "I swear I didn't know he would be here, and I didn't know he would do that to Chief Bofor."

The air in the cavern was thin as to be useless. Refugees had gathered nearby to watch the spectacle. Tobias did not seem to notice. Her attention was focused solely on Jennifer and the question of what was waiting for them outside the mountain.

"How could you do this to us?" Tobias pleaded, her tone lowering, dejected.

"I thought you would fix him," Jennifer said in a quiet, desperate confession. "You fix everything."

Tobias looked at her with sharp blue eyes. "Not this," she said, unsteady. "I can't fix this at all," she said, laying out her other hand helplessly toward Chief Bofor's still body.

She released her grasp on Jennifer's neck and sank back to the cave wall. She hunched over, with her hands on her knees. The data port embedded in her skull glinted in the subtle light of the cavern. Tobias stayed that way for a while, not moving or saying a thing. She was breathing hard. Her fist balled and slammed into the cold stone in anger and frustration.

"Isn't there another way out?" Jennifer asked, reaching for any possibility to rectify her grievous error. "I saw tunnels. We could use those."

Tobias actually began chuckling, although Jennifer could hardly see the humor of the suggestion.

"Wherever you go, there you are," Tobias said, bring her laughter under control and straightening. "They're just tunnels to other sections. We can't go back whence we came, and if your little overunit got a signal out, we'll be cut down the minute we open the door to the outside. It's only a matter of time, Cadet."

"I didn't know this would happen," Jennifer pleaded. "Please, you have to believe me, Doctor Tobias. I didn't know what to do."

Tobias looked at Jennifer, studying her. Her eyes looked so tired, so weary of all she had battled as a rebel. She gave a hint of a smile and shook her head. "You know, the hell of it all is that I actually believe you. Poor judgment aside, I don't think you have it in you to harm to someone. Even if that's not really true," she said, "it's something I need to believe right now."

Before Jennifer could utter a reply, a loud explosive sound roared through the tunnel and into the cavern, reverberating through the floor. She started, drawing back in surprise and shrinking low beside the crates that supported Chief Bofor's body. Tobias, though, remained standing.

An eerie silence followed the blast. The only sound came from a few refugees who cowered and sobbed in their fear of what was about to descend upon them.

It seemed an eon to Jennifer before Tobias spoke. It seemed as though she was listening for sounds to judge just how much of the enemy had broken through and how fast they were coming to get them.

"We may be down, but we're not going out without a fight." She motioned to a few of the able-bodied refugees who remained. "You four - follow me."

She walked a few meters away to another set of crates that were lined up neatly along the wall. She unlatched the clasp on the lid of one crate and tossed the covering to the side. Tobias reached into the box and pulled out mint condition blasters. She began distributing them to the refugees who had lined up next to her at her command. They took the weapons in their hands. One rebel knew just how the blasters worked. The others needed to be shown the basic functions, but the weapons were of a simple design. Each sported a safety and an intensity shifter that governed how much power was issued in each round fired from it.

Once all those who could carry a weapon had been given one, Tobias picked one for her own from the container and returned to the other set of crates where Jennifer stood.

"And what to do with you, Jennifer?" Tobias said, sounding as though it was the most trivial of all the concerns of the moment.

"I'll do whatever you tell me, Doctor," Jennifer replied, submissive and overwhelmed. She could see Chief Bofor's body in her peripheral view, a stark reminder of what was about to block their only escape from the mountain.

"You've done more than enough for today, I think," Tobias said, absently sliding the power control on her weapon up and down between the maximum and minimum setting. "I can't have you interfere with our fight. These people deserve a chance to get out."

"I understand," Jennifer acknowledged, though it was more an acknowledgement of what Tobias believed than what Jennifer would have professed.

"Good," Tobias said. "Then, you'll also understand that I have to do this."

In one swift motion, she brought the blaster up and fired, hitting Jennifer at close range and sending the young woman into oblivion.

Jennifer never remembered hitting the ground, but she was sitting on it when she finally started to regain consciousness an indeterminate time later. Her eyes were not ready to open, but her ears were returning to functionality as she heard distant booms and yelling. It took a while to piece together what it all meant. Sleep had been a blissful thing she was not ready to give up so soon. Still, there were nagging spots on her back that ached for attention. She tried moving to alleviate the discomfort, but that only transferred the spot of annoyance to another location and did not lessen it at all. There were so many variables appearing at once that she lost heart at different times to keep them sorted. She left them drift up and away to their own destinations because she was sapped of the energy to try to keep them all under control.

The sounds in the distance grew a little louder after a while, but Jennifer could not decipher how long it took. Time was inconsequential. It was a matter of processing things as they appeared on the plane of her understanding, which was a very small palette. Not that she cared, really. Everything was fragmented and dull, not sharp and whole like she was used to seeing the variables around her. It took so much energy to try to piece things together that she eventually gave up and let them float where they may in her hazy mind, allowing them to mingle among one another in no particular order. In a way, it was soothing to let go. It took effort to keep everything on an even keel and in her control all the time. She had done it all her life, even if she had not realized it. Now, she knew what it was like let things flow as they decided, to not worry about chaos and disorder. It was freeing and liberating, even if it went against everything she knew.

At some point, her brain decided that the loud sounds she heard required a little more of her attention and consciousness. There were more voices and the sound of scrambling feet until it all came to a dead stop. Silence fell across her perception like a heavy blanket. Jennifer wondered briefly if she had gone deaf, but she could hear the sound of her own breathing in her ears. Then, she heard the unmistakable sound of mech warriors entering the area. Muffled screams bounced around in her head until they were gone, as if dragged down one of the tunnels and away from where she lay. She simply had no energy to open her eyes to look around her. It was nice to just keep them closed and let them rest. It felt like ages since she had been able to do that.

She was able to sense the proximity of someone or something near her. Shadows passed in front of her eyelids as someone stooped down by her head. Jennifer felt a shaking motion on her arm but did not give any reply to the caller.

"Is she still alive?" an unfamiliar male voice asked tersely.

"There's a lot of blood, but I don't see any wounds, sir. She looks like she's just… stunned," another male voice replied with a hint of surprise.

"Untie her and wake her up. I want to know what happened," the first voice said with authority. "And clear that body out of here."

"Right away, sir."

The world suddenly tilted to the right as leather-gloved hands pressed her body at an odd angle. Jennifer felt the cold clamminess of the cave's dirt floor press into her cheek and shoulder as she was turned slightly. The cold bite of the cave wall was gone, and she felt her arms snap free as the restraints that she did not realize bound her wrists were released.

Then she was on her back, closed eyes assaulted by brighter light. She was torn between giving into the sweet warmth of deep sleep and her duty to open her eyes and awaken, no matter how difficult that task was.

Before she could debate the choice any further, a sharp and pungent scent rocked her senses. The first wave was brief, but the second was stronger and more insistent until she turned her head to escape it. The assault continued, though, until she instinctively opened her eyes find the source so she could avoid it.

A blonde-haired, blue-eyed senior cadet in battle dress uniform was staring down at her, eyeing her return to consciousness. He was the same age as she, and she knew him to be in another cadre – one that her cadre competed with from time to time, though it could hardly be called a competition. His was always an inferior group. It took a moment to dig his name out of the clutches of her memory, but she found it and applied Avery to him.

"Are you injured?" he inquired.

Jennifer was still beating away the fog in her brain. Her eyes could not focus on any one point. The senior cadet's face banked in and out of clarity, slipping side to side in her field of vision.

"I said, are you injured?" Avery asked again, this time more insistent.

She closed her eyes briefly to stop the world from spinning. "I don't know," she said, barely above a whisper. It was an honest answer. She had no clue what her physical condition was, only that she barely had control over anything.

"Sit up," he commanded, and started pulling her to an upright position.

A stinging wave charged through her fingers and palms as he pulled her to a vertical position. The pain got her attention, and she flexed her fingers, trying to get the nerves awake once more.

Jennifer opened her eyes again and looked around the cavern. Chief Bofor still lay motionless and dead on the crates near her. His blood had run down the side of the cargo container in tiny streams which were now almost dry and matted. The lines in his skin were accented by dark red where he had tried to stem the damage of his wounds, blood caught in the crags and crevices of his rough hands.

Avery snapped his fingers in irritation, trying to get her to focus her attention on him. "Hey, look at me."

She did as he ordered, even though she technically outranked him and did not have to honor such commands.

He peered into her eyes, prying up the lids one at a time for a better look at her. She knew it was to see if her pupils were reacting properly, but she thought it pointless. It was clear she was awake, and her annoyance was growing, which meant she was going to be fine. Jennifer batted his hands away from her face.

All at once, the flow of events jumped to the fore of her memory. Overunit Balash, the fight with Chief Bofor, the sound of incoming Dread units – it all congealed into one solid epiphany. She remembered everything now and was able to put all the pieces together to form an entire account of what had happened.

"Where is Overunit Balash?" she asked slowly, carefully forming the words so as not to have to repeat anything.

"He's dead," Avery answered stoically. "He signaled us, but he perished by the time we broke through to the tunnel." He paused, reverent. "He'll be remembered as a hero of the empire," he said solemnly.

Her next inquiry was one she had not wanted to make but had to know the answer. "Doctor Tobias?"

Avery straightened slightly, as if the mention of her name was distasteful. His face hardened. "She's been taken into custody for direct questioning by our lord."

That was no surprise, Jennifer thought. Lord Dread had made it a mission to find the extent of Doctor Tobias' reach into the rebel network. Her questioning would be a job he would want to handle himself.

"Where are the refugees?" she asked, looking about the cavern that now sat empty except for lingering mech units and another overunit who was opening and inspecting crate contents.

"If you're speaking of the rebels we found cowering in here," he said, sharply, "they've been properly dispatched."

_Dispatched._ It was such a clean word for saying they had been executed that Jennifer almost laughed at the euphemism. Chief Bofor had been dispatched. So, too, had Overunit Balash. The dispatching would no doubt continue, reaching out to whoever had assisted in the rebel network.

"Can you stand?" Avery asked, although it was more of a strong suggestion that she needed to regain her composure as a youth leader with the watchful eye of an overunit nearby.

She nodded, but it was a lie. She felt as though she could stay right where she was for quite a while and be completely content in doing so.

He hooked her arm around his shoulder and began lifting her, helping her to her feet. There was a spot on her ribs that was sore from the impact of the blaster's stun setting. Jennifer vaguely recalled seeing Tobias fire the shot before losing all sense of reality. The reminder would last a few days, she knew. After that, it would fade into just a memory.

"You'll be needed back in the lab immediately for questioning," Avery informed her. "Lord Dread has ordered a thorough inspection of the computer core and anything else that can be used as evidence against Doctor Tobias and the rebels. A transport is on its way for you."

She did not answer him, simply nodded her understanding of the orders. Her lack of enthusiasm was not lost on him.

He stepped in front of her and looked at her sharply. "I don't know what went on here," he said quietly, accusatory, "but for your sake, I hope you fulfilled your duty."

His words ignited a flash of anger in her that burned so hot she felt it in her face. How dare he question her loyalty? It was one thing if Doctor Tobias did it. That was different. It was another thing all together to have an inferior cadet question a senior cadet's performance of duty and loyalty to the cause. There were certain people she was required to entertain in such matters. Avery was not one of them.

A small mechanized transport rolled into the open cavern area and waited for her. His attention was turned momentarily toward it before he became mindful of her again.

When he was paying attention once more, she got close to him - so close that she could speak in low tones that no one else could hear but him.

"Don't confuse this event as an opportunity for advancement, Cadet Avery." A smile of satisfaction formed on her lips as she relished the feeling of power again over at least one thing in her life. "That's a mistake you won't make twice."

Jennifer slipped around him and boarded the transport for the lab.


	23. Chapter 23

**As usual, thank you for reading. Nope, it's still being posted unedited, so shout out if you find a boo boo. And, if you think to do so, please drop a review. We're starting to get into some charted territory, so I have to watch my step…**

**Chapter 23**

A troop transport ship idled on a small precipice outside the cave that had led to freedom for many rebels. Several mechs stood in rank, awaiting orders from the overunit who ran them. They were newer models, still sporting sheens of buffed metal exoskeleton, as though they had just recently come off the production lines of Volcania. They were constantly being improved, each generation better than the next – more deadly, more accurate. It was what Lord Dread was going to need to ensure his vision of machine perfection prevailed in a dirty, human world.

She took comfort in returning to what she knew and what had been a large part of her life. The sight of mechs and an overunit meant order and an escape from the chaos she had been subjected to over a period of weeks in Alaceda.

The enlisted driver of the wheeled transport stopped the vehicle near the troop ship. He had given Jennifer his field jacket once he saw her hug her arms to regain warmth. The trip through the tunnels had taken a while, but he knew better than to try to make small talk with her. She might soon be his commanding officer, and that line of demarcation was not one that was ever to be crossed. She nodded to him in acknowledgement of his service and stepped on to the rocky mouth of the cave.

She looked out at the large valley that sat below the mountain, realizing the rebel exit was nearly on the other side of the range from the Alaceda lab's landing bay. While the climb down into the valley would have been steep, it was not impossible at all. The fact was that the rebels had probably worked out very effective paths to get to safe hiding areas. It was no wonder they could avoid any patrols looking for them. While mechs were advanced machines, they still had difficulty navigating more difficult terrain. Their processors simply could not react to a loss of balance in the same effective manner the human mind did, especially if the ground under them shifted. That was a likely case with the split rock surface of the mountain.

The mechs were lined up, weapons held at attention, awaiting orders. They looked like a wall of protective metal, ready to defend the empire and its mission.

"Left face!" the overunit called out in a staccato voice.

She instinctively turned, only to realize the command was meant for the mech units, not her.

"Form a line."

Again, the machines moved obediently and swiftly, taking three steps each until they were in perfect formation. For a moment, it was hard to see why they were being ordered to do so until she saw a huddled, undulating mass of brown rags beyond the line.

In one chilling instant, she realized Cadet Avery had been so very wrong. The refugees had not been dispatched. They had only been rounded up and brought outside under their own power, where it would be easier to collect the bodies once the task was complete. They had been marched to their deaths, even though Jennifer was sure they could not have played a part in the battle for the cavern. They were very old or very young. They were not combatants and could not have been even if they had wanted to join the fray. They were simply… there. But for that reason, they were about to suffer the fate of any others who opposed Lord Dread's vision.

One young woman with long brown hair, about the same age as Jennifer – maybe a year younger - sat on the ground and clutched a child in her arms so tightly that her fingers left impressions on the skin of the girl's bare arms. The air was bitter and cold, blowing in a constant speed that whipped the woman's hair aloft at uncontrolled angles. The child shivered, burying her runny nose into the woman's shoulder. The eyes of both were red and wet, but the source of emotion seemed to be different for the woman. Her eyes were wild, shifting from side to side as the wind rose up and buffeted the cave walls, like a harbinger of what was to come. She marked the position of each mech and the overunit, as though counting them.

"Aim!" the overunit called out in a command tone, raising his arm.

The woman's hand went to the back of the child's head, as if to hold it in that same position. Then she closed own her eyes and winced, but it was hardly from the biting cold. She knew what was coming and that there was no way to stop it. She looked around again and she settled on Jennifer, silently pleading for intervention from fate. For the briefest of moments, their eyes connected – blue on brown, different worlds colliding in a catastrophic point in time.

"Fire!" the overunit cried, dropping his arm in signal to the mechs.

Jennifer's body flinched as a precise volley of concentrated blasts was sent scorching toward the refugees. The skin of her belly contracted as the shots met their marks. There were guttural sounds of pain and a few starkly loud screams from the group of captives as the blasters struck their targets with deadly accuracy. Smoke and dust rose up, and bodies began dropping to the ground, thumping into the fine cave dirt in a dull whap. Several mechs fired extra shots as a few targets still moved or writhed in an effort to escape. Her vision of the spectacle was momentarily obscured until the wind cleared the aerial debris up and away from the scene.

Then, she saw the pile of bodies ever so clearly. The refugees had fallen on each other, except for the woman and the child, who managed to avoid the toppling bodies around them. Even in death, she still held the girl close, protecting her to the last. Her eyes were open and still seemed to look at Jennifer, but there was no chance for intervention now that the order had been carried out by the machines. Both woman and child were dead, hit by multiple rounds from the blasters and frozen in their final position until the overunit ordered the mechs to clear the bodies.

Jennifer realized she had not breathed, immobile with shock at the exhibition of machine power. She forced herself to take in a deep breath and calm her racing heart. She had been taught that there was no greater display of power in Lord Dread's empire than to cleanse it of the filth of rebels, only she had never actually seen it done. She had no idea that this was what it looked like, nor had she been prepared for the aftermath.

Without any care, each corpse was picked up by the hands and feet and thrown into a pile. There was no sense in returning them to Volcania. They would be left to rot and decay until only bone remained. After all, it was a way to eliminate weak human beings from the final equation of building a perfect machine world.

Still, there was something so vulgar about the way the mechs hurled the bodies onto the pile that it caused her stomach to roll. Bare skin of one body slapped into another, limbs bouncing haphazardly until gravity caused them to settle onto the body below them. She quickly looked away, averting her gaze to a control panel on the transport. It had been opened so that the pilot could make an adjustment in a control there.

That was when she remembered Ian.

He had been in the last group out of the mountain, which meant he was a prime target for the roundup. She turned and desperately scanned the pile of bodies for him, but the mechs were piling on more bodies, obscuring those who lay at the bottom of the heap. She quickly walked toward the mound until she was stopped by the overunit.

"What are you doing?" he inquired in a distinct authoritative voice that froze her in her tracks.

Jennifer immediately stood at attention, her chin stoic as he peered down at her. She pushed down the gorge in her throat.

"I'm... I was trying to ascertain if a rebel of interest had been apprehended, my lord."

"They're all of interest, Youth Leader Chase." He swept his hand out toward the pile, as if to introduce her to a product. He shrugged slightly and chuckled quietly, pleased with himself. "Well, they _were_. Does this particular rebel have a name?"

She paused and started to frantically run through the permutations of reactions to the answer she gave. If she used a name to identify him, it would raise a host of questions regarding her interactions with Ian and would most likely raise suspicions among her commanders. Overunit Balash was dead, and there was nothing to say she had not been an accomplice to his death. If she took a more anonymous approach, it would look as though she had failed to gain even the most basic intelligence while at Alaceda. That would only lead to some form of punishment later on, she knew. She had seen it all too often to discount it as a possibility.

No matter what tact she took, a negative response of some sort would result.

_Do the math._

Doctor Tobias' voice sounded in Jennifer's ears so distinctly that she turned to see look for her. There was no one there, just the enlisted man shutting the rear cargo container of the transport.

"Well?" the overunit pressed, impatient.

It took everything she had to find her voice and speak at a level expected of a cadet of high rank. "No," she said. "I would only know him by sight."

He put his hand around her bicep, pulling on her, guiding her toward the bodies. "Take a good look at this group we've just handled," he said. "I want to make sure we've captured and identified every piece of garbage emanating from this facility."

Jennifer looked for a head of curly blonde hair, but none of the refugees fit the bill. She looked again to be sure, only then allowing herself a measure of consolation that Ian's body did not number among the dead.

"He's not in this group," she said. "He must have escaped before our forces arrived."

The overunit gave a click of his tongue. "Yes, we were ordered to remain on standby until we received the signal. Otherwise, we would have had the entire mess cleaned up in one sweep. No matter," he said, dismissing the disappointment, "we have their leader, and she'll make an excellent example of what happens to rebels once Lord Dread finishes with her."

Jennifer stood there, taking in more details of the bodies that had been snuffed out of existence in such a fleeting moment. One second, they were alive. The next, they were dead. How could it be that simple? Even if the refugees had been true rebels, a statement which she knew not to be true, it made more sense to properly interrogate all of them to gain any intelligence they might have concerning the enemy. Instead, the overunit had ended their lives without so much as an afterthought.

She had heard of mass roundups of rebels and knew they were disposed of for their crimes. This, though, was the first time she had ever seen that task carried out in its entirety. The stories in no way conveyed what she had witnessed. No words could describe the smell of charred human flesh as it drifted and implanted itself deep in her sinuses. Certainly nothing could adequately describe the sight of open, dead eyes that stared up at nothing at all and yet seemed to focus on her at the same time. The look of shock on their faces was frozen in time. Those looks would remain until decay and rot erased flesh from bone.

The overunit mistook her contemplation for something else.

"Are you certain you're not injured?" he asked, although there was hardly any caring in his question. He looked down at the red blotches on her shirt. "Cadet Avery said you had merely been stunned."

_Merely_ was not quite an adequate word in Jennifer's opinion. The shot had stung and bruised her deeply. She would feel its effects for days, she knew. The blood stains were just a metaphor for what she had been through since coming to Alaceda. It went along with the other injuries, mostly non-physical ones that would take much longer to heal. The pile of dead refugees was yet another point in her collection of experiences she had to reconcile, though she was not confident she would resolve all of them, no matter how much effort she put into the task.

"I'm fine, my lord," she said, bringing her mind back to him so as to satisfy his need for attention.

"Then I suggest you get back to the lab and assist in the investigation." He nodded toward the transport. "Dismissed."

She obediently turned and started toward the ship when he called out to her one more time.

"And change out of those clothes." He gave a look of repulsion. "You look disgusting."

He had understated it, Jennifer thought. Not only did she look terrible, she felt like she had been contaminated with something. It was hard to define it exactly, but it felt wrong. It was not filth but something so much deeper. Perhaps Doctor Tobias' attempts to indoctrinate her into the rebel cause had reached too deeply, muddying the clear precepts of Lord Dread's vision.

The transport was immaculate inside the passenger area. Small vents pushed out a powerful stream of air that prevented the dust and dirt of the mountain from infiltrating the ship and its components. It was warm and soothing as she passed through it and took a seat along the wall. The pilot in the right seat of the cockpit turned and looked at her.

"We have orders to take you to Alaceda's bay," he said. "There's an overunit waiting for you there."

"Understood."

He turned and reached for the control panel in front of him. The back door of the transport lifted off the ground and rejoined the hull of the ship, sealing her inside for the ride to the landing bay. There were no windows in the passenger area, but she could trace the path the ship took to the bay in her mind. She imagined it rising up and banking to the right, following the contours of the mountain. Then it straightened, flying out a short distance so it could turn and set up a final approach to the bay. It was not an easy landing, as the mountain winds buffeted the ship. She had successfully negotiated them on her first flight into the base. The more experienced pilots who flew this ship seemed ill at ease with the crosswinds, fighting them and overcorrecting. It was a bumpy ride, which was putting it mildly in her opinion.

The nose of the ship angled down, and she could see the landing bay approaching far faster than was necessary. If an adjustment was not made, they would smack into the side of the mountain. At the last moment, the pilot adjusted his approach and brought the nose up, but it was too much. The ship just missed hitting the hangar bay frame by a foot. Then she felt the nose drop down in a lurch. The engines throttled back quickly to reverse the forward momentum. Jennifer heard an ear-piercing shriek of metal on metal as the ship slammed to a stop on the bay floor.

The two pilots sat in the cockpit for a moment, silent. She could feel their contemplation and unspoken awareness that they had barely touched their ship down in one piece. The pilot then secured the engines and released the rear door so Jennifer could exit. Neither of them said a word to her. She stood and exited the transport. She could not resist stealing a look at what it had done to the bay floor. If only Chief Bofor had been around, there would not be any such thing as silence. She could practically hear the string of insults and complaining he would have issued to the pilots. The pilots, she knew, would have accepted his tirade without complaint, because they had chunked the bay floor. They had cut a deep swatch in it which would require heavy maintenance to repair. There was no telling how much damage had been done to the landing struts of the ship, either. That would require more work that a flight crew would have to start on right away if the pilots had any hope of leaving in the next few hours.

She climbed the steps that led out of the hangar bay and to the upper deck. An overunit waited there, apparently amused and distracted by the transport pilot's performance that he did not reprimand her for moving more slowly than she normally would have.

Jennifer came to attention when she was the appropriate distance from him. He was a senior staff member, older and certainly experienced in the ways of the empire and its administration. His graying temples seemed odd, as most of her superiors were younger. He had to have been a part of the initial metal wars, a carryover of loyal servitude to Lord Dread if he had attained such a rank.

"Youth Leader Chase reporting as ordered, my lord," she said as crisply as she could.

He looked down at her, examining her objectively and without scorn. "At ease," he said. "I'm Overunit Pryatel. I've been assigned by our lord to debrief you and what went on here." Again, he looked her over, his eyes settling on the deep rust color of dried blood on her shirt. "Not yours, I take it?"

"No, sir," she answered.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I'm not sure whose it is," she said, lying to a superior. It was safer that way until she could ascertain where she stood in the investigation.

"It's of little matter," Pryatel said. "We already know what went on in the cavern. My job – and yours – is to salvage any information we can from the systems here. First, though," he said, "I want you to get cleaned up and into a fresh uniform. You'll be no good to me in your present condition."

How true that was, she thought. The more she was made aware of the gore on her shirt, the more she wanted to get it off her.

"Report to the lab once you've made yourself presentable."

"Yes, sir," she said. She stepped back and turned on her heel.

Unfamiliar people roamed the halls of Alaceda. Most were technicians who were in the process of gathering evidence or at least what they thought passed as such. Jennifer knew they would probably find very little information of use. Doctor Tobias was thorough if anything. For that matter, the entire facility was most likely stripped of any useful intelligence. Even the flight bay had been secured before the escape attempt through the tunnels.

She came to her quarters and reached out to the control panel to open the door. A technician was coming toward her, and she waited until he was fully past her before opening the door. It slid open, just as it had since she had come to Alaceda. Jennifer did a quick inventory of the room, finding it had been just the way she had left it. Nothing had been searched. The cabinet doors were closed, and everything appeared in order with the exception of the broken glass of Mercury's habitat. That was in the same disarray as she had left it.

She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, locking out any prying eyes that happened to walk past. She caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall and gasped. It was no wonder there had been so many questions regarding her health. Her tank top was awash in dried blood that looked as though she had been the victim of Overunit Balash's assault, not Chief Bofor. She pulled at the shirt, but the blood had fused through the fabric and on to her skin, a kind of organic glue that hurt to dislodge.

It should not have been there at all. It was, as the overunit had said, disgusting. The revulsion that shot through her was electric, piercing in its clarity that she was unclean. It nauseated her, and it took everything she had to control her stomach.

In a panicked move, she dashed into the lavatory and started the shower, not bothering to adjust the temperature of the water. She stepped into the cubicle and let the frigid water rain down on her. She scrubbed at the blood again and again. The water sluiced down what was left of her uniform, and she shivered violently as it drenched her and rehydrated the dried blood. The blood ran down her pants, briefly blending in with the bloodline stripe, and into the basin of the shower cubicle, where it swirled around in a dark pink stream before disappearing down the drain.

Jennifer suddenly lost all strength in her legs and sank down to the floor. She hugged her arms close and rocked back and forth, feeling as though the icy water was a just punishment for her failure to adequately complete her mission and everything else she had been tasked to do. No matter which side she chose in the battle, she was wrong. No matter how she tried to reconcile the actions of Doctor Tobias or her own, she had failed to do whatever it was that was correct. It burned inside her, a sharp contrast to the cold water streaming down her head and back. She thought of the wickedly cold winds on the mountain as it washed over the refugees awaiting execution. They had been shivering and cold. She had been given a jacket for warmth whereas they had been given nothing but a kill shot. They had been erased from existence, but for what? The real rebels had escaped long before that group had been rounded up inside the cavern. The ones the overunit had apprehended were hardly criminals and could not have been combatants in the rebel cause even if they had wanted to, for they were the very old and the very young.

Her hand curled into a fist, and she slammed it into the shower wall again and again in frustration, uttering a muffled shriek with each strike. She did so until it hurt her hand and equalized her mind's attention to all that had happened. It would do until she satisfied her need for contrition with corporal punishment. She would accept whatever her superiors deemed sufficient for her failures. There was something else to concentrate on now, and it steadied her focus. Overunit Pryatel was waiting for her. It was her duty to collect herself and report to him as ordered. She would do what she was told and push forward until she had more time to put her thoughts in order. It was the only way to gain control over the moment and everything that had happened. The future was out of her control entirely, resting in the hands of overunits and Lord Dread, himself.

Water had begun to crest the shower basin and leak out into the lavatory. Jennifer reached to pull the door shut when she noticed a white ball of fur and red eyes peering up at her. Mercury's paws latched on to the rim of the basin to help it stand upright and watch her. A bit of water splashed up into its tiny face. It twitched to fling it off and gave a tiny sneeze to clear it out of its nose. She reached up and shut the water off, fearing the deluge might harm the rat. She reached out and picked Mercury up in her wet hand, balancing the rodent on her knee. It looked up at her, reaching out to touch her hand and cling to it with tiny fingers.

Of all the entities that had crossed paths with her at Alaceda, of all the ups and downs and difficult decisions that had been thrown at her, Mercury had remained a quiet constant. It was an unassuming companion that had never judged her or ordered her to do something which caused conflict. It was a simple animal that had limited needs. One of them certainly seemed to be companionship, but mostly it was food. She had not made provisions for him when she left. There had just been no time to do so. She would make time now, though. It was the least she could do, and it would be one thing she could claim she had control over in an otherwise insane day.

She stood up, bringing Mercury close so she would not drop it. Then she sloshed out into her quarters and found some food. She placed the rat on the bed, not caring that it seemed unsanitary. The odds were good that she would not be spending the night in Alaceda. Even if it became necessary, she could have her pick of any quarters she chose. There was hardly any reason for Overunit Pryatel to object. Mercury, for the moment, was free to make a mess on her bunk with its food while she stripped out of her wet clothes and showered.

Blood was surprisingly forgiving once put in contact with water, she found. Though she would not have dreamed of retaining the tank top with its translucent stains, she could have made it pass muster in a pinch once the water had divested it of Chief Bofor's blood. She cranked up the heat of the water until the chills that had plagued her were gone and the warmth had seeped into her muscles, soothing the stress in them. She looked down where Doctor Tobias had shot her with the blaster. The impact had spread to the width of her hand on the lower right quadrant of her torso, right at the curve of her ribcage. The red that remained was not the stain of the chief's blood but her own vessels breaking and pooling at the point of injury. She lay her hand over the area, feeling the burning hot skin that was painful to the touch.

It was not until then she considered why Doctor Tobias had done it. Her first thought was that it had been out of anger, but anger would have resulted in something more painful or even more permanent. The doctor was well-versed in weaponry. She had designed some of the best implements ever used in war. Jennifer concluded that there had been no doubt of the setting of the power. She remembered Tobias sliding the control up and down, as if a game of roulette that ended without any premeditation. Tobias was deliberate in everything she did, and the setting of the power level had been no exception, in Jennifer's opinion.

She finished showering, feeling refreshed and cleansed as she stepped from the cubicle. She wrapped in a towel and stepped into the main room of her quarters to get a new uniform from the closet when she paused. Mercury was still busy finishing the meal she had given it. It stopped and looked up at her for a second before resuming its mission to finish every morsel she had given it. She pondered what to do with it. It had been loyal to her and had never shown any aggression toward her in all her dealings with it. To leave it in her quarters would doom it to starvation. To try to return it to the dark corridors where she had initially captured it would have drawn too much attention, and there was no guarantee she would be able to get it there anyway. No, she had to find another solution to ensure Mercury's survival. Fair was fair, and she had a duty to protect her ally.

She picked the rat up in her hand, and despite a small lunge for the remainder of food it was interested it, it seemed content to be held, even if it meant losing control of the food. Jennifer held it up to her face, close enough for its whiskers to touch her, wriggling incessantly against her nose until she could not contain a quiet laugh at the sensation. She allowed herself to enjoy the pleasing sense of comaraderie she had with the rat. Both of them had endured Tobias' social experiment to the bitter end, both surviving and moving on, whatever that entailed.

Jennifer looked about the room. She began mentally dismantling it, revealing every escape route she could conceive – not for herself but for something the size of a medium rat. Of all the options she found, only one fit the criteria that would give it the best chance of escape.

She knelt down under her desk and pulled away the panel she had used to tap into the lab's video system. Her terrible splice job hung carelessly in the recesses of the conduit. Jennifer pulled at it, not worried at all that she might break the connections. There was nothing to spy on now that Lord Dread's forces were in control again. She could go back to being a subordinate with a future, leaving the command decisions to commissioned officers. All she had to control now was the fate of one rat, and that was something she was sure she could handle quite easily.

The conduit ran up and out of her quarters. Once in the hall, it straightened out and dumped into a main junction that ran behind the walls of the corridor. She had hunted enough rats to know a large number of their travel paths. In short, rats could go nearly anywhere they wanted. They could chew through almost anything, and they had a remarkable ability to remember travel paths. It did not matter if it was due to intelligence or scent. Mercury would survive, she knew, if it would just take a cue from her and begin running the conduit. The only problem was the rat was not ready to cooperate. Every time she tried to guide it into the tube, it returned to her, trying to climb up her leg. This happened three times before Jennifer decided to take a different tact. She picked up the rat and held it in front of her so that they were eye to eye.

"Look, we can't keep doing this," she told it. "You need to go now. That's the way out, and you should take it while you can. I don't know what happens from now on, but no one is going to be here to feed you like I have. It's time to go."

Mercury showed no signs of comprehension. Its nose undulated happily, enjoying her cradling of its pudgy body, mostly because that was its favorite thing – to be held by not just anyone but by her. While it made no sense, she did take a bit of pride and ownership of the honor, even if it was just a rat.

She made one last attempt to insert the rat into the conduit, finally covering it with the vent shield so that there was no chance of returning to the room. Mercury clawed at the vent, still able to see her through the slatted vent that angled downward.

A strange feeling settled in her chest as she saw Mercury struggle to get out of the vent and back into the room. There seemed such desperation to its attempts. Jennifer realized it had nothing to do with food. It wanted to return to her, to be held and caressed again. It wanted to stay with her, no matter who she was or what she had done.

That was just not possible, she knew. Cadets, especially ones who followed the rules to the letter, did not have pets. They set examples for other cadets, and there was no way she could have explained her relationship to a rat to anyone's satisfaction, especially to an overunit or even Lord Dread, himself.

Jennifer leaned back and reached for her wet trousers that she had thrown on the floor. She hung them over the vent grate so the rat could no longer see her. After four interminable minutes, she finally heard Mercury start climbing up the conduit. The sound of claws on metal continued through the ceiling. She stood and listened, intently following the scratching she heard until it came to the wall of her quarters and crossed over into the corridor.

Again, the odd feelings welled in her. These feelings were both curious and wrong, of course, even if she could not fully identify them. Jennifer had not read any text that referenced or put a label on what she felt. Emotions were not allowed, and for good reason. They clouded judgment and caused hesitation in action. That could be costly in any situation. That had already become apparent in the cavern when she failed to assist Overunit Balash. Or was it that she had failed to be loyal to Doctor Tobias?

Jennifer shook her head, trying to clear it of the conflicts raging through it. The answer was simple. She was a soldier and a future officer of the empire. There was no room for emotions to play into her plans of promotion and career. Certainly something so trivial as a rat should have been easy to dismiss. It should have been easy to see that Chief Bofor was a traitor. Doctor Tobias ranked the highest among all those who betrayed Lord Dread. The fact that the young cadet was troubled was a sure sign her mind had been poisoned by rebel rhetoric and needed to be cleansed by whatever means necessary.

She dressed in a fresh uniform, making sure she looked as crisp and perfect as she had been in the past. It would take time to get herself back on track, but that would be her own personal battle. It would not be known to anyone but herself, she promised. As far as anyone would see, she was still on track to be a highly decorated cadet graduate in six months. During that time, she would right herself and find equilibrium once more. She would perform admirably in her field exercises, which were just around the corner. After that, she would receive her commission and would do her part to bring about the perfection of the machines in a filthy human world.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Overunit Pryatel sat hunched over a cargo container that had been returned to the lab from the cavern, taking an inventory of its contents. He took a count of something, pointing his finger at each item as he did so, his lips moving silently as tallied. He finished a row of whatever it was that had his interest and noted the number on his list. The overunit looked up at her as she stood in the doorway. He motioned for her to enter.

Jennifer strode up to him in smooth strides, stopping at precisely three feet from him. "Youth Leader Chase reporting as ordered, sir," she said, standing at attention, despite the twinge of pain in her ribs.

"As you were," he said, setting down the inventory sheet. He pointed absently at the cargo containers. "I assume you have some knowledge of the projects that went on at Alaceda?"

"Not all of them, but Doctor Tobias did involve me in her more important research."

He put the data tablet on the container and leaned up against the box, crossed his arms, and sighed. "You're being reassigned," he said, as if bracing for her disappointment.

She figured she might be reassigned, though she had harbored hopes of returning directly to Volcania to complete her studies and to return the safe confines of her cadre. "May I ask where?"

"Med Lab One," he said plainly. "It's the closest facility and the best equipped to begin deciphering this mess. Have you ever been there?"

"No, sir."

"Plan on an extended assignment until such time as Doctor Peterson deems your services are no longer needed."

The indefinite nature of the timeline got Jennifer's undivided attention. "Sir, if I may, I haven't finished my studies yet. I wish to be able to attend graduation with my cadre."

It had little to do with the people in her cadre. They were disciplined, but she hardly felt any camaraderie with them. It was a matter of ensuring her commission as an officer would not be delayed by anything, including the vast research of one Doctor Helene Tobias. Any delay now would preclude her from joining the next flight class induction, and that was not acceptable. She had worked… no, she had _earned_ her right to be in that class. Flying was all she wanted to do. She had not asked for any of the events that had transpired during her assignment at Alaceda, nor had she asked for any special treatment for her efforts. She wanted what she had rightfully merited for exceptional academic and physical performance in the Youth.

If Overunit Pryatel held any sympathy for her, he did not show it. He was not angry or disappointed that she would voice such a concern. Nor was he impressed that her worries revolved around dedication to her cadre, her studies and her future with the Dread empire. He was quite possibly the most neutral superior she had ever met.

"It's out of my hands," he said. "Doctor Peterson has been tasked with discovering what's in this treasure trove of projects. His opinion is the one that matters the most to our lord, and there's not much to be said to change that."

"Understood, sir," she said with a hint of dejection.

He rubbed at the webbing of flesh between his forefinger and thumb, concentrating on that instead of her. "There is such a thing as offering too much information at times, though." He looked up at her. "You're big on always being in the lead, and that's what gets you in trouble. Take me, for example. I've been around the service for a couple of lifetimes, and I'm just Overunit Pryatel. Not first, not last, not senior anything except maybe my age. I'm just riding a happy medium of responsibility."

She did not like the sound of his hint. "You're saying I should withhold information from our lord?"

"No," he replied smoothly, "I'm just saying you should pace yourself with all this accomplishment stuff. It's like feeding an animal. You give it fresh meat every day, until one day, you run out of meat. So, you feed it dry nuggets. It's still food, but it's nothing like that fresh meat. Next thing you know, your hand is gone," he concluded, making a cutting motion across his wrist.

Her vision took on a sudden red filter that caused her to jump inwardly, even as his arm came to rest at his side. It took less than a few seconds to bring whatever it was that had invaded her senses under control. The episode was an affront to her training and everything she had been taught. Mercifully, it focused her, diverting her attention back to her mission and oath and not to whatever had misfired in her eyes. It was enough to aim her attentions to Overunit Pryatel.

"May I presume you know this from experience?"

He rolled his eyes in recollection. "More times than I can count."

Jennifer studied him and his familiarity and ease of his surroundings. When she had entered the lab, he had already been inside, starting his inventory. He had not asked her for guidance of what was in the crates, the security layouts, or any other pertinent information someone starting a fresh investigation of espionage might ask.

"You've worked with her before, haven't you?" she asked, stopping just short of an accusatory tone.

"I've done my time with her, which is why I know what I'm talking about, Cadet." He crossed his arms. "Allow me to paint a picture for you. You get reassigned to Med Lab One to play nursemaid to Doctor Peterson, a substandard scientist who lacks the most basic of hygiene skills. You follow him around, opening up crates and digging around, expounding on your knowledge of what you think is inside them because you managed to catch a glimpse of this or that once or twice while on your little assignment. The only problem is, Doctor Tobias is way smarter than Doctor Peterson and infinitely smarter than you. Neither of you will be able to figure out the finer details of her projects in a lifetime. The question is, which one of you will admit it?"

"I'm prepared to fulfill my duty any way necessary," she said defiantly.

"There's nothing in the rules about always exceeding expectation. You want to graduate on time? Quit being so indispensable and walk the line of normal achievement. You're getting reassigned because you put on a good show; but the truth is, you're all shine and no substance. You and Doctor Peterson have that in common. There are many ways to serve the machine."

He was baiting her. She was sure of it. But what if she was wrong? He could have been testing her to see if she had been turned to the rebel side by Doctor Tobias.

On the other hand, he could have been one of those overunits that had fallen off the radar and had sunk below any appreciable recognition of his action or inaction due to his years of service. If she had to guess, he was at least a twenty-year veteran, probably having the chance to pick which side he would support when the schism of power took place between the various international sects and chaos ensued. Lord Dread had emerged as victor in all of that, giving the ultimatum to those who remained after the final major battles to join him in the quest for machine perfection or be scraped from existence, deemed as an obstacle to the truth. Overunit Balash, it appeared, had somehow managed to slip through the cracks of scrutiny for officers. Jennifer could just imagine him licking his political finger and hoisting it to see which side held the advantage in the wars. Once he had made his decision, he carefully analyzed the most profitable course and took it.

That was the only explanation she could produce. The calculation had taken all but milliseconds in her mind. She had always been able to do that – weigh one option against another until she was able to determine the best course of action, all in a matter of moments. It had been her forte, even as a child. Jennifer had known it long before her instructors had recognized her abilities. Once they did, though, she was enrolled in nearly every accelerated academic group. By the time she was three quarters of the way through her studies, she had realized the power it brought. Those who led seldom ever had to look behind them to see who followed.

"If our lord is displeased with my performance, I'm sure he'll let me know," she answered.

Overunit Pryatel barked a laugh and shook his head in dismay. "You young kids can't take one damned word of advice these days." He held up his hands in surrender. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

His mocking infuriated her, though she dare not display any anger. Despite his lackluster commitment to the empire, he _was_ an overunit and could certainly impact any opportunites that might come her way, especially at Med Lab One.

"I appreciate your wisdom, sir. I'll take it under advisement."

He sighed. "Suit yourself. You have any gear you want to retrieve?"

She thought about that for a moment. The only thing she might have wanted to retrieve was a white ball of fur that was currently finding new sources of food in the maze of conduits that ran throughout Alaceda. Other than her standard issue uniform and equipment, there was not one thing she wished to take with her to remind her of her time at Alaceda and with Doctor Tobias. She would have ample reminders at Med Lab One when she began the forensic analysis of what had been salvaged.

"Just my uniforms, sir."

"No souvenirs?" he queried.

"There's hardly anything I'd like to remember about my time here."

He nodded in agreement. "I can believe that. Now, let's get started on the computer core. Hopefully, those morons in the flight bay will be ready to go by the time we get done. I'd like to be out of here tonight."

"Understood," she said, not wanting to stay any longer than was necessary, either.

He directed her to the lab console and instructed her to begin the process of pulling any data she could find from the core. He attached portable storage to the console, but there was hardly a need for it. Doctor Tobias had cleared all data from the system. Only the basic operating system remained. Even if they pulled the storage cubes, there would most likely not even be a residual shadow of the data left in the sectors. Tobias would not have been so careless, but she had been in a hurry, Jennifer thought. It was possible the genius scientist had not remembered to do a full wipe of the cubes in her haste to get the refugees into the tunnels. It was at least worth a try.

Jennifer explained the facts to Overunit Pryatel, who agreed that pulling the storage cubes was the next step. They would have to be analyzed at Med Lab One, where scanning equipment could expertly dissect any data that remained.

"Good work, Cadet," Overunit Pryatel congratulated, clearly impressed with her creative thinking and reasoning.

"Thank you, sir. What's what next?"

"Nothing," he said. "We're out of here. I'm not going to waste another minute in this place. Everything is boxed and ready to go. Our lord is most interested in the data interface project Doctor Tobias had been working on with you. That must be analyzed with the utmost care, and this is not the place to do that."

"I agree," she said.

"We'll leave shortly for the lab. I'll catalog all the evidence as it's brought in once we're set up there. Return to your quarters and gather anything you need to pack. We'll be leaving in thirty minutes. I'll debrief you on the flight."

"Understood," Jennifer acknowledged enthusiastically. It felt liberating to accomplish a task to a superior's satisfaction. A twinge of apprehension fluttered through her at at the thought of being interrogated by Overunit Pryatel, but she deserved any harsh treatment coming her way due to her inability to complete her mission. It would be the beginning of her penance and her return to honorable status.

When she returned to her quarters, she packed her gear in record time. She did steal one last look at the domicile and at Mercury's habitat that lay in pieces on the desk. Her fingers had held one of those shards, ready to exact just punishment on herself. She looked at the console and saw the cup that Ian had brought her, still filled with soup that she had not eaten. It had been a peace offering, and his timing had brought her intention to take her own life to a standstill. Jennifer was not willing to label it as anything but coincidence. There was no such thing as divine intervention, as some of the human population believed. The only fate was one she controlled. The cup disappeared from view as she stepped into the hall and shut the door.

The hangar bay was busier than she had anticipated. A maintenance crew had been brought in to work on the cargo ship. As Jennifer suspected, the landing struts had taken damage in the faulty landing. One lay dismantled on the far side of the bay, a useless piece of scrap. The metal had been stressed, causing a visible fracture down the main column. A new strut had been installed. A crew chief was performing a final calibration to ensure it had been installed correctly. If the balance was off even a fraction, the strut would eventually buckle under uneven stresses, potentially causing major damage to the entire ship.

Overunit Pryatel was waiting near the ship. The crew chief approached him to report his progress in repairing the damage. Their exchange was brief, and Overunit Pryatel motioned to Jennifer to get aboard. She did as she was told, stowing her gear bag in a cargo compartment. She took a seat near the rear of the ship in anticipation that she would be having a confidential conversation with her superior during the flight. There was no reason the pilots should be privy to any of that.

She waited for him, growing nervous as the pilots began preflight checks. Still, Overunit Pryatel had not boarded. She feigned the need to check her gear bag so she could steal a glimpse of the bay to see what the delay was. Outside the ship, he stood talking to Cadet Avery, who held up a clear evidence bag for his inspection. It contained a bloodied dagger and a red-stained uniform shirt. He was pointing out the marks on the dagger, identifying it as belonging to Overunit Balash. Jennifer was not sure why it made her nervous. She had not been accused of anything yet, but Cadet Avery was set on finding any irregularities in an effort to gain recognition with superiors. She knew he was not above concocting evidence so long as it mostly fit into the story. She wanted nothing more than to know what he story he was feeding Overunit Pryatel so that she could develop a quick defense for herself. The evidence could certainly be misconstrued as her having aided the enemy, which would have been true, but not how Cadet Avery would like to imagine. It was a circumstantial act, one she would like to have been able to go back and change, but that was impossible.

Overunit Pryatel listened intently until Cadet Avery had finished his report. Then the overunit took possession of the bag of items and dismissed the cadet. He began moving toward the ship. Jennifer quickly reclaimed her seat, strapping in before the overunit was aboard. She waited at attention, like the disciplined cadet she was.

He entered the passenger area and indicated to the pilots that they were clear to take off when ready. He then took the seat next to Jennifer and placed the evidence bag on the next seat. He pulled his legs in and sat at attention. Overunit Pryatel picked up the bag again, holding it on his lap so that it was in clear view of Jennifer.

The cargo ship began moving, turning so it could line up for an exit from the bay. The day was waning outside the mountain. Dark skies loomed ahead of the flight path like an omen of the interrogation to come. The pilots eased the ship through the hangar opening and into the high crosswinds that bit at the side of the mountain. They were more diligent in their course corrections this time until they had cleared the wind shears.

Overunit Pryatel sat quietly, his hands prim and proper on his lap while he held the bag. She glanced down at it, wanting to talk about it but knowing that to do so would give an investigating overunit ammunition in which to fire questions at her she might not be able to answer. She had no doubt that he was piecing the sequence of events together enough to know that she had lied to him. The blood on her tank top had been Chief Bofor's, and she had known how it got there. Her uniform shirt had been used on his wound, and his blood had stained the clothes she wore. A genetic material test would confirm that.

The right seat pilot turned and called back to them. "Estimated flight time is one hour."

The overunit nodded in acknowledgement of the information. He turned his head toward Jennifer. "That gives us a bit of time to talk, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir," she said, staring straight ahead, concentrating on the sliver of cockpit controls she could see from her vantage.

He leaned over toward her ear. "Would you like to know what Cadet Avery told me?"

"I'm fairly certain it wasn't flattering, sir," she answered, trying not to grind her teeth as she said it.

He seemed to find it amusing. His lips curled into a smile at her comment. "You and Cadet Avery don't get along, do you?"

She braved a look at him. She was sure that her rank as a Youth Leader had garnished her such a privilege. "His cadre and mine are in competition for this year's top honors. It wouldn't be the first time he's embellished information to cast a poor light on my cadre and my leadership."

"I see," he said. He looked down at the evidence bag and its red contents. He tapped it lightly. "Did he embellish these?"

She steeled herself and decided she had earned the right to use the same tactics as Cadet Avery. "Chief Bofor was critically wounded in a fight with Overunit Balash. I assumed that Overunit Balash would return with our forces. I was attempting to keep Chief Bofor alive for questioning."

"So you admit this is Chief Bofor's blood on your uniform?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yet you told me in the hangar you didn't know whose it was. Were you lying then or now?"

"With all due respect, my lord, I wasn't thinking clearly when I first encountered you. Doctor Tobias had stunned me, and Cadet Avery had woken me not thirty minutes before I returned to the flight bay. I was still in the process of gaining my bearings."

He gave it a few seconds of consideration, then shrugged. "Not bad. Is that the story you're going to stick with for now?"

A chill ran through her veins that he was questioning the validity of her statement. "Sir?"

He took a deep breath and sat back straight against the jump seat. "Let's try a different one. Here's what I think happened. I think Balash, being the worm that he was, picked a fight with crusty old crew chief who kicked his ass, despite being stabbed twice. Balash beats a path through the cave, only Chief Bofor – a highly decorated marksman, I might add – gets off two pretty solid shots. Somehow or other, you're around for the aftermath. You end up being the first to care for the chief's wounds until he can be brought back to the staging area." He looked at her sharply. "How am I doing so far?"

Jennifer dared not speak a word.

"See, Balash stuck the chief pretty good. There was a bright red trail to follow, so it wasn't that hard to figure out the sequence of events. We found Balash in a heap, covered in mud and blood. It wasn't pretty, by the way. Chief Bofor had punched a hole through that weasel's leg and put a good hurt on his liver. Either wound was going to be fatal."

His eyes bore through her as he looked for any response from her to see how close to the mark he had hit.

"Is that the report you'll be submitting, sir?"

Overunit Pryatel put his hand to his chin in mock contemplation. "Hmm, that's a good question," he said. "The answer is quite vital to your future."

He removed his cap and set it on the jump seat to his left. He smoothed back his crew cut with a hand. The spiky salt and pepper hair behaved for half a second before returning to attention on his head. He stood, keeping possession of the evidence bag, and moved to the forward area of the hold and closed the door leading to the cockpit, locking it. Overunit Pryatel turned once more and cradled the bag in his arms.

"One advantage of being an overunit is how many rewards you can reap. Take me, for example. I do as I please. If I see something I want, I take it. If I deem an action will increase my reward, then I command it."

He knelt down and turned the handle on the floor hatch that led to the upper controls panels in the landing gear bay. With a quick sequence of numbers on a keypad, he opened a small fuselage door that revealed their high speed and altitude. Wind whipped up at him as he took the bag and stuffed it through the hole and out of the ship. Jennifer heard it bump against the rear of the craft before falling away to the desolate terrain thousands of feet below them.

Overunit Pryatel closed the panel and dropped the hatch lid back into place. He stood up and rubbed his hands together, as if removing dust and dirt. "One day, you'll enjoy such rewards."

He sat down in the jump seat next to her once more. She was too preoccupied with his elimination of the evidence bag to notice he had turned toward her, angling himself to that he faced her.

She stared straight ahead, not daring to visually address him.

"Now that I've done you a favor, I get to reap my reward." He reached out and touched the curve of jaw. His hand was warm and soft, almost hot.

Jennifer jumped at the contact, her breath quickening, but she did not pull away from him. He was her superior, and that move might have been misconstrued as disrespect. She felt his finger lightly rise up and run the edge of her ear.

"Not here, and not now," he noted casually, "but soon."

He leaned in toward her again and blew gently at her ear, causing her to recoil at the sensation. Still, Jennifer remained seated at attention, but her jaws were clamped tightly as he continued his contact with her.

Overunit Pryatel laid his hand on her neck, massaging her taut muscles with strong fingers while he continued to touch her. "There are many ways to serve the machine, Jennifer," he said. He leaned in closer, so that his lips just grazed her earlobe. "I've seen something I want, and I'm going to take it," he said in a low whisper.

Jennifer's heart pounded in her chest until she thought it would leap out and settle on the floor. Fear flowed through her like it had every right to do so. What Overunit Pryatel was doing was improper, although some cadets had used this tactic to get ahead in courses where they struggled. She had never had to rely on such perverse ways because she had always been ahead of the curve.

"Just relax about the investigation," he said, almost in a coo. "Remember, I'll be doing you a favor. Now, you'll owe me."

Just as his hands started moving downward, there was a commotion at the cockpit door. One of the pilots was trying to open it, but Overunit Pryatel had locked it. The overunit made no move to unlock it and continued doing what he wanted to do.

There was a large crashing sound as one of the pilots kicked at the door from the cockpit side. That got the overunit's attention. He withdrew his hands and stood as if being called to attention. The door suddenly flew open, slapping into the galley compartment to the left of the cockpit entranceway.

The right side pilot stood there, his eyes ablaze with anger. He was a few years younger than Overunit Pryatel but was on his way to older years of service. He was a flight captain, higher in rank than an overunit, and certainly higher in rank than a cadet in her last year of academy training. "What the hell are you doing?" he bellowed.

"Turn around and leave us," Overunit Pryatel ordered icily, upset at his intentions being interrupted.

The pilot entered the hold area, still hot with anger. "What did you do to my ship?"

"I didn't do anything to your precious ship," the overunit answered snidely, disgusted with the accusation.

"We had a hatch alarm, you ass," the pilot said, pointing toward the spot in the floor where Overunit Pryatel had opened the panel. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to sabotage this ship and those aboard it."

Overunit Pryatel looked at the pilot, incredulous at the accusation. "Why would I sabotage a ship I'm currently riding in at this altitude?"

"You tell me. You're the overunit." The pilot looked at Jennifer, concerned. His eyes said he knew what had been going on in the hold. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," she answered, though she was far from it. The day was becoming almost too much to handle, and Overunit Pryatel was piling it on with abandon. Her problems seemed to continue multiplying by the minute.

"Then take the right seat up front," he ordered.

Overunit Pryatel was not having any part of it. "You'll do no such thing, Cadet Chase. You'll remain here with me until we've arrived at Med Lab One."

The pilot got in the overunit's face, escalating the confrontation. "I'm in command of this ship and everyone aboard it, including you. No one locks a door on me."

"I'll lock whatever doors I see fit when conducting an investigation."

"Really?" the pilot pressed. "Does interrogation also include improper contact with an academy cadet?"

For the first time, Overunit Pryatel seemed to be off balance in his confidence. "I never did any such thing."

"Shall I play the surveillance video for you?" the captain offered. "Or should we just skip to the part where I report you because I don't like you?" The exchange continued back and forth until the pilot looked sharply at Jennifer. "I gave you an order, Cadet," he snapped, pointing toward the cockpit.

She obediently stood at attention and carefully navigated her way around Overunit Pryatel and the captain and slipped into the right seat of the ship. She glanced at the co-pilot, who concentrated on the ship's status and flight pattern. The argument in the hold ensued, growing louder with each barb tossed by the officers until the captain finally called the co-pilot to the hold area.

"Take over," the co-pilot said as he extricated himself from the cockpit.

Jennifer immediately took possession of the flight yolk, keeping the course steady toward Med Lab One. She checked the navigation panel to get her bearings while the three men in the hold continued to argue. Finally, the argument died down and the captain returned to the cockpit, taking the left seat. The co-pilot, still in the hold, closed the door.

"Damned ground pounders," the pilot muttered. "You watch your back around him," he warned. "He's a lousy excuse for an officer. I won't have him touching cadets on my ship, especially one who wants to be a pilot. We're a different breed, and we pilots protect our own." He reached up and turned off the video feed to the hold area where the co-pilot and Overunit Pryatel were still trading words.

"So," the captain said, "I understand you want to join our service?"

"Yes, sir," Jennifer responded. "I was hoping to take my training after graduation."

"What kind of flying?"

"Phantoms, sir," she said and instantly regretted it when she saw the look of disappointment on his face.

"It's always the glory, never the utility that gets a cadet's attention," he lamented. "It's a shame. You're pretty good at the stick in one of these," he said, complimenting her skills. "As you saw, we misjudged the bay at Alaceda. I understand you flew it quite a few times without a problem. That's the kind of pilot we want in our service."

"Thank you, sir. It's my goal to serve our lord well in that capacity some day."

Alarms suddenly rang out in the cockpit, and Jennifer felt a lurch in the control stick as the ship caromed to the right. She immediately scanned the instrument panel for the cause.

"We've lost hold pressure!" she reported to the pilot.

The hold area of the ship had lost all pressure in a wide evacuation, instantly plunging the ship downward at a dangerous velocity. She dropped the throttle into reverse and pulled back on the stick hard, struggling to bring the descent under control. The fight was so strong that she had to resist the urge to plant her foot on the dash in order to gain leverage in pulling up and leveling their flight. Her side ached with ferocity as she used every muscle she could to gain altitude.

All at once, the episode subsided, and she quite easily brought the ship under control as the pressurization alarms ceased their audible alerts. She deftly brought it into a climb until it settled back at fourteen thousand feet at a comfortable cruising speed.

Jennifer examined the instrument panel again to confirm that the hold had pressurized and that no damage had been done to the ship's engines or hull. Everything checked out normal.

The flight captain gave satisfied sigh. "Well done. Very good instincts, Cadet Chase."

"Thank you, sir," she said, more concerned that he gave no sign of being disconcerted at the incident. In fact, he seemed disturbingly casual about it. "What about the lieutenant and Overunit Pryatel?"

He reached up and turned the video feed to the hold back on the screens. Jennifer looked at the screen, startled to see only the lieutenant standing in the hold. There was no sign of Overunit Pryatel.

"What happened back there, Lieutenant?" the captain asked calmly through the comms link to the hold.

"It was the damnedest thing, Cap'n," he reported. "Bugger just opened the door and jumped. Guess he didn't like flying after all."

It was the lackadaisical way the lieutenant said it that told Jennifer the overunit had a little help in his quick exit from the ship. She looked at the flight captain for some sort of an explanation.

"Understood, Lieutenant. Is that door secure now?"

"Locked down and secure, sir."

"We read the same up front. We'll let Cadet Chase take it the rest of the way. Enjoy your time back there."

"Affirmative, sir."

The video feed winked off once again.

"Sir," Jennifer dared before he held up his hand to stop her from proceeding any further.

"I told you, Cadet, we protect our own… especially from useless garbage like that."

"He was supposed to report his findings of the Alaceda investigation once we got to Med Lab One," Jennifer said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. She instinctively knew that she did not have to elaborate with the captain that Overunit Pryatel had made promises to make the investigation go away if she would submit to him.

"Well," the captain said, "looks like his report is going to be a little late. They'll just have to start all over again, won't they? By then, you'll be graduated and strapping on your own ship."

"I don't understand," she said, being completely honest.

The captain adjusted his posture to a more comfortable position in the seat. "I don't care what went on at Alaceda. I had your request form on my desk for some time before they sidetracked you into that mess. I'm not going to have someone like Pryatel inventing stories just so he can have a piece of you and look good in the process. I need good pilots, and you're going to be one some day. Besides," he said, "I think you've had enough trouble to last you for a while. You've earned a break."

He nestled back into the seat and put his arms behind his head. He casually brought his feet to the top of the flight console, crossed them, and closed his eyes. "Now," he said with a small smile, "take us to Med Lab One."


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: **Don't ask me how I got this installment done so soon, because my life is a rollercoaster at the moment. Alas, as usual, this has not been edited, so please PM me any boo boos if you have the time. And thank you so much for reviewing! It's like Mercury snacks to me. :)

**Chapter 25**

The navigation systems said they were approaching Med Lab One, but Jennifer could hardly discern where it lay among the ruins of the old abandoned city. It was underground, perfectly concealed from rebel forces who would have paid a great price to get inside it and gain all the intelligence it held. Primarily a chemical lab, it had forged relationships to nearly all sectors of research in Lord Dread's empire. The products coming out of Med Lab One not only enhanced the performance of human warriors, they also provided a means to systematically eliminate clusters of remaining human populations with potent chemicals and biological weapons.

The rebels, though, were nomadic. As soon as one sector had been deemed clear of any population, the rebels would wait until the mech units were gone and reoccupy the area. It was a plague to any overunit assigned to clear an area. There was simply too much ground to cover with the limited number of overunits available. While the mechs were intelligent, they lacked the understanding of how cunning rebels could be. Overunits were required to lead them in more complex operations to allow for deviations from standard operating protocols when required.

The atmospheric ash was more concentrated in the area around Med Lab One. The winds aloft were not strong enough to dissipate it. The setting sun that was quickly dipping below the western horizon gave the city a grayish hue to it that made it difficult to discern the landing zone from the surrounding burned out buildings at high altitudes. Only at the last few seconds of approach did Jennifer see the muted green beacons on the roof of the complex. She banked the ship at a fifteen-degree angle to the right and began a cautious vertical descent to the pad. The touchdown was smooth and gentle with hardly a bump rocking the ship as she stuck the landing and powered down the throttle to the off position. She began the post-landing shutdown of the flight systems.

The captain looked over at her and grinned. "Keep this up, and you'll be our lord's personal pilot in no time."

Jennifer gave a polite smile at the compliment, but the last thing she wanted to be was Lord Dread's transportation. It was ironic, she knew, because she would have been very honored to do that before being assigned to Alaceda. Now, she had failure hanging over her head and no real way to offer explanation for it.

"Thank you, sir," she said, systematically engaging the safety protocols that were required once a ship had landed.

"Go," he said. "I'll finish up here."

She stopped the safety process, lowering her hand from the overhead panel. She could not help but to voice what had weighed on her mind since learning what had happened in the hold. "What about Overunit Pryatel? Doctor Peterson will be expecting him."

The captain smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. "You let me worry about that. For now, you just do what you're told to do until they kick you loose."

"Yes, sir," she said heavily, though she had little confidence in that plan.

He saw her distress and gave her a playful punch in the shoulder, trying to lighten her mood. "Hey, you did good, pilot. I expect great things from you once you get your wings. That was a hell of a good fight back there."

Jennifer appreciated his confidence in her. It had been so long since she felt any sense of accomplishment at anything that she could not help but smile. "Any one you can walk away from, right, sir?" she said, chanting an age-old pilot's adage.

"That's the ticket," he said, grinning congenially. "See? You're even starting to sound like a pilot already." He gave a motion with his head. "Go on, get out of here."

She climbed out of the right seat but paused before leaving the cockpit. Jennifer turned toward the captain. She could not just leave him with a sense of ingratitude.

"Sir?"

He looked back at her, but he seemed to read her thoughts perfectly. She did not have to thank him out loud for what he and the co-pilot had dared to do. It did not matter that Overunit Pryatel probably had a terrible reputation among other officers. It did not matter how helpless she felt when he had been touching her. What mattered was that she felt like she had just been brought into the fold of the service she had wanted so much – to be a pilot and to take to the skies. _Pilots protected their own_. She liked that. It felt perfect, like it was the moment of belonging she had waited for all her life, a belonging that surpassed even her membership and rank in the Dread Youth.

He smiled and gave her a nod. The corners of his eyes pulled up, and he gave her a quick wink. "Don't mention it."

She returned to the hold where the co-pilot had already gotten her gear bag from stowage and had it waiting for her. She thanked him, and he shook her hand ever so quickly, not saying a word to her.

The ramp opened, and Jennifer was presented with a dark and dirty view of bombed out buildings, archaeological artifacts of the majestic structures they once were. She could see a few mech patrols far in the distance from her vantage point, but there were no other signs of life or inhabitants in the area. No rebels burned fires for warmth, no clashes between mech and human units could be heard. Just the slight wind that blew in the night gave the slightest hint of natural movement of anything at all.

Jennifer stepped off the ramp of the ship and down onto the landing deck. A technician in a blue lab coat stood waiting to greet her.

He was painfully nervous, clearly not the caliber of service material. However, he must have had some intelligence, for he was assigned to a research facility. He served some purpose, but it was unlikely that it was anything more than an assistant's role, more fetching than doing. In some ways, he reminded her of Ian, except Ian was intelligent and as technically proficient as she was. The technician, she suspected, was far from that.

The technician did not speak a word. He pointed his hand in invitation to rooftop access doorway. Once he opened the door for her, she realized it was a transport that led straight down through the building and into the lab. A control panel on the wall indicated there were twelve sublevels in all that lay below the surface of the old city. Without any comment, he tapped the panel for the fourth floor and brought his hands behind his back, clasping his fingers together in a parade rest stance. He seemed quite dutiful, as most technicians were. Although she was an academy cadet, she outranked him by far and reserved the authority to issue orders to him and any other technician that were to be followed to the letter.

The lift descended downward in a smooth motion. She could hardly hear any of the mechanical works that drove it, a testament to the evolving excellence in design of all things machine – even a simple lift.

The fourth floor was busier than she had expected, but it was still winding down from daily activity. The nightly rest time was approaching. Several Youth moved about, on their way to their destinations within Med Lab One. She stepped from the lift and followed the technician. She hitched up her gear bag, suddenly feeling its entire weight as it dug into shoulder. The pull on her side was painful, though she made it a point to not give any display of discomfort. The technician led her down the hall to the right. She could see it was the dormitory level, with rooms on the right side of the hall. Information displays lined the left side, projecting schedules, data, duty rosters, and threat data in colorful charts and lines that efficiently conveyed everything one needed to know after being assigned to Med Lab One.

The lighting was subdued, raining down illumination in dusky trapezoids that vanished into the dark tiles of the floor that seemed to consume the photons. Recycled air pushed through the ventilation system, producing a scent that was much different from that in Alaceda. The mountain smelled of wet earth that was somehow pleasing and fresh. Med Lab One's air was not stale, but it had a slight antiseptic smell to it that reminded her she was back in a real Dread facility, one that followed regulations and valued proficiency at following rules. It was an olfactory signal that it was time to get back to being the top-ranked cadet that she had been before the insanity of Alaceda.

Jennifer took comfort that each room appeared to house only one occupant. This was by design, of course, because it isolated each resident and made him or her more easily observed. Each person was responsible for the contents in the quarters and for the condition it was in at any given time. Surprise inspections were nothing new to her. She, in fact, liked them because they kept her sharp and in tune with her training and destiny. She was slated to be the best of all cadets that graduation year for a reason.

The technician led her to a room at the end of the hall, the very last domicile on the right. He pointed that it was hers, nodded, and turned on his heel. Whereas all the other units were side by side in uniform succession, a maintenance compartment that spanned the length of one room separated this one from the res. The room, itself, was sparse and orderly, just as she had come to know at the academy. It had a communications and work console, gear closet, lavatory, and bunk. Most of all, it was regulation. It was the way things were meant to be – free of chaos and anarchy and experimental rats. Jennifer craved the comfort of returning to what she had always known and desired. Her experiences at Alaceda were a blur of moments should was prepared to put behind her. Yes, there were probably serious consequences that awaited her for her initial failures, but she had a chance to redeem herself at Med Lab One when the final analysis of Doctor Tobias' work was begun.

She entered the room and dropped her bag onto the bed. The door closed automatically behind her, sealing her inside the silent compartment. She tapped the console to see what her immediate orders were. There was a swell of relief in her body as she saw that she had some down time to get herself in order. It felt like ages since she had been able to sleep, and Doctor Peterson had given her twenty-four hours arrive at the station and get oriented with its layout. That was standard procedure when being assigned to any new base. Even Doctor Tobias had followed that protocol. Sometimes, its greatest value was the chance to rest after long transits.

Jennifer opened her gear bag and stowed her uniforms, taking the time to make sure they were put away perfectly in the closets. Exercise clothes had been placed in the closet in anticipation of her arrival. All cadets were expected to remain in peak physical condition at all times.

She changed into bedclothes, tired and hurting, sore both physically and mentally from all she had been through. Her body was shutting down, a defense mechanism from anyone else inflicting any more turmoil on her in any way. She decided she could not experience it if her brain had been laid to rest for eight hours. Jennifer lay down on the bed. She turned out the lights and closed her eyes, letting down her guard and trusting that she was safe to allow herself much needed rest in the absolute silence of her new quarters.

The absence of sound was like a cocoon, enveloping her in a sweet caress that let each nerve relax. She realized that her shoulders were still tensed, as if still in recoil from Overunit Pryatel's touch. She forced those muscles to relax, feeling them fall flat against the edge of her pillow. In one last act of preparation for sleep, she imagined all the thoughts in her mind as a canvas that had to be erased. Mentally, she scrubbed it one element at a time, eliminating them from view and her thoughts. Some were more difficult than others to purge, but eventually they all disappeared until only a blank surface remained. Once that was done, Jennifer began drifting off to sleep, cognizant of the fact that she was floating toward being unconscious.

It was peaceful – for a while, anyway. The canvas remained blissfully blank until she abruptly found herself on the side of the mountain again.

The refugees lay in a pile, all of them looking at her with dead eyes, all of them in a silent scream. Overunit Pryatel, who stood nearby, knelt down by one of them. He reached down to the young woman who still had the girl clutched in her arms, and pulled her up by the hair. The child dropped carelessly to the ground. He held the woman up in display, as if she weighed nothing at all. Her hand rose up, and she pointed directly at Jennifer with an accusing, mud-stained finger. Likewise, Overunit Pryatel pointed at the cadet with an accusing hand. When Jennifer looked, all the refugees were pointing at her, their mouths open in an astonished but silent shriek. All she could hear was the rush of the wind blowing so loud that she reached up to cover her ears and protect them from the biting cold and sound. When she did that, the howl of the wind ceased, only to be replaced by the quick thumping of her pulse. One beat followed another until it was almost one continuous sound. Tears ran down the faces of the refugees. Droplets fell from their skin toward the ground. When she looked down, she saw that she was standing in water that sloshed up and over her boots.

There was movement to her right. Jennifer looked to find Helene Tobias sitting on a rock at the edge of the precipice, shaking her head in disapproval. The doctor pulled her robes tightly around her as the wind began picking up strength. The current of air kicked up the water in a spray until it obliterated Jennifer's view of the doctor.

When she looked back at the refugees and Overunit Pryatel, they were not there. Then she looked down and saw them below her feet, drowning as if trapped under ice. They were encased in water and clawed upward, struggling to find an escape, beating their fists against the invisible barrier that had them captive.

The brown-haired woman suddenly propelled herself upward, breaking the surface of the water. Her hand was so cold that Jennifer could feel the chill through her boot. The woman latched on to the cadet's leg and pulled downward with a hard yank.

Jennifer lost her footing with the surprise assault, slipping into the dark depths of the water that should have only been a few inches deep. She was suddenly pulled under the water with them, fighting to escape the grasp of the woman. Down, down she went, with more hands from the refugees reaching in to keep her from making it to the surface for even one quick breath of precious air. She fought toward the light, but it was fading fast, blocked by outstretched arms that owned her completely as she was pushed down even further.

Then she saw it – a hand reaching down through the tangle of arms and bodies, haloed in a white jumpsuit. She grabbed the strong limb in desperation and was pulled upward, amid refugees that fought to keep her in their possession, until she broke the surface and was on solid ground again. She sucked in a frantic breath of air and sputtered out water that had battered her lungs.

Silence. All the noise swiftly stopped, even her heart. The wind was gone, and all the madness had come to an abrupt halt. If was as if she had gone deaf.

Jennifer turned to find the refugees piled on land again, their eyes and mouths now closed. This time, Overunit Pryatel lay amongst them in a bloody heap, his uniform all but destroyed by the impact of his body on rocky terrain.

Off to the left, a man sat leaning against the wall of the cave, his knees drawn up to support his hands. Chief Bofor, dressed in his white mechanic's jumpsuit that was horribly stained with blood and gore, raised his head and addressed her with dead eyes. He brought his hands together and began to clap, one thunderous slap at a time that echoed off the stone walls and bounced around in infinite repetition. He repeated the action, sped up to a grotesque rate until the sound of his applause was a rage in her ears.

Jennifer started, suddenly going blind. She was completely disoriented. There was instantaneous darkness, like there had been under the water, only she was not under water. She was cognizant of the ventilation system kicking on overhead and the dim light coming from the communication console. She realized the pounding she heard was her pulse raging in her chest and neck as she slipped from the nightmare and back into reality. She was in her bunk, breathing in rapid gasps as she got her bearings. There was no water and no refugees. She was no longer in the mountain but in Med Lab One, where she had been transferred hours earlier to assist Doctor Peterson.

She got out of bed, gingerly holding her side, and made her way quickly into the lavatory. She turned on the light and looked with desperation into the mirror to assure herself that she was dry and unscathed. Her eyes were wide and anxious, taking in the details of the room so she could assure herself that it was only a dream, that it was a culmination of things she could not explain.

The clock showed that she had slept only four hours, but Jennifer felt like she had a dangerous amount of pent-up energy that she needed to get rid of before it did damage to her. She went to the closet of the main room, turning on the overhead light for comfort, and found exercise clothes that had been put there before her arrival. She donned the dark blue pants and white tank top, carefully riding the shirt over her sore ribs. The athletic shoes were comfortable and were according to her recorded size in her service record. They were a comfortable contrast to the duty boots she normally wore. She stepped into the hall, stopping briefly to check the information panel closest to her dorm for directions to the exercise facility.

The exercise room was one level up, an entire floor dedicated to physical fitness. Jennifer rode the lift up to the level without incident. A runner machine was on the far side of the room, tucked away from the prying eyes of anyone who might pass by the area. She went to it and stepped on its platform. She began walking at quick clip, increasing her pace as her muscles warmed to the task. Then she was running, running faster than she ever had in her life, she was willing to bet. She had no idea how long she kept her pace, but she continued until her legs felt swift with motion. Jennifer's side ached with each impact of her shoes on the machine, but at least it was a sign she was awake, she thought. It seemed a fair trade to exchange one pain for another – one physical for one that was deeply disturbing in her mind. In time, she knew, they would eventually cancel one another out and fade into distant memories. For now, she had to allow the physical to overtake the mental so that she could once again feel in control and accomplish what she had been tasked to do by Lord Dread.

The minutes on the clock at the far end of the exercise room ticked by, one after another, until an hour had passed. Sweat rained down her skin like a cleansing wash that signaled she had returned to the normalcy of being a Dread Youth. It spurred her on to run more until her body was finally exhausted of all its extra energy and anxiety. Jennifer slowed her pace, cooling down until she eventually stepped off the runner and onto the floor. Her legs felt wobbly as she stood on solid ground. Her side was aching with a ferocity she welcomed but would have to attend to back in her quarters. She did not want to report to the infirmary for treatment, as that would surely garner more attention than she wanted or needed.

It was nearly zero-two-hundred hours, and Med Lab One appeared almost abandoned in the late hour. She passed a lone Youth ferrying reports from one location to the next. He acknowledged her as she strode along, and she returned the courtesy in kind. There was no sense in creating animosity or suspicion among those already at the facility. She wanted to fit in again, to reclaim her status as Youth Leader and enjoy all the rewards that went with it, everything she had earned with her hard work. It was her right and destiny, despite nightmares and images that would take some time to quell.

The ache in her side was growing at an alarming rate, and was going to require attention whether or not she wanted it. She stopped at an information panel and checked for the infirmary location. It was located on the second floor, mid level to the facility. Jennifer stepped into the lift and sent it to the second floor. She stepped off and found the infirmary was directly across from the lift shaft. It was a wise layout, as it eliminated the need for travel down corridors in the event of a medical emergency.

The lighting was bright on the second floor. It was an area that was not meant to be shadowed or calm. There was a need for clarity in order to handle emergencies that presented to the staff of that section. That started with being able to see everything in a crisp light.

Jennifer pushed through the double doors that led to a small triage area of the infirmary. A medical technician sat in a chair behind a desk, processing reports on a terminal. She was young, but still a few years older than Jennifer. She looked up from her work.

"How may I help you?"

"I strained a muscle in the exercise room. I need a cold pack."

"Do you require medical treatment?" the technician asked efficiently.

"No," Jennifer said. "Just the pack."

The technician stood from her desk. "Wait here, please," she said, inviting Jennifer to a row of chairs along the wall. Then she disappeared around a corner.

She could hear the technician exchanging words with someone in the treatment area, but the conversation was muffled. She could not decipher the information being relayed, but there was a tone about it she did not like. Jennifer stood, ready to abandon the whole idea when a physician appeared, followed by the technician. He was an officer, tall and stoic and in charge of his shift. His blonde hair was neatly combed and cut to specification for male personnel.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. "I understand you require assistance?" he queried.

Jennifer knew instantly he was not the type who could be dodged with half-hearted answers. "Only a cold pack, sir."

He scrutinized her features with a careful eye. "You're new here," he declared.

"Yes, sir," she answered, cringing inward as she knew what was coming. "Youth Leader Chase. I reported only a few hours ago to Med Lab One."

"I'm Doctor Arlen. You do know you're supposed to report for a physical upon arrival at a new duty station, correct?"

"Yes, sir, but the hour was late. I thought it best to address that requirement in the morning."

He gave a sigh. "Seeing as how you're here, let's get it done now. Then you'll be free to report in the morning. It won't take long, and I don't have anything better to do at the moment," he said, his tone softening just a bit to coax her into agreeing.

She knew it was no use to argue with him. He was a superior officer who was making a strong suggestion that equated to an order.

"Yes, sir," she answered, feeling depressed that she had even decided to come to the infirmary at all.

The technician led Jennifer to side room and had her sit on the examination table.

The procedure was to be simple, as it had been at every duty assignment the cadet had so far experienced. A technician would take all the standard vital signs – blood pressure, pulse, oxygen levels, and heart rate. Then, a blood sample would be drawn for a cursory check of any disease that required attention. After that came the little chat about how she was feeling and if there was anything the doctor needed to know that had not come to light in the initial examination. The same chat was then repeated with the doctor to make sure there were no discrepancies in what a patient had said to the technician.

However, to her surprise, the technician left the room, leaving just Doctor Arlen and Jennifer. He pulled over a short stool and sat down in front of her. He began doing the standard tests, noting the results on his data pad as he went. The doctor did not speak to her at all until it came time for blood to be drawn. He held up a syringe.

"Do you have a preference of which arm you'd like me to use?" he asked.

Jennifer almost raised her left to him when she realized that was the arm where the tracking chip has been implanted. She quickly switched her choice when it occurred to her he might detect scarring, and that would certainly raise questions she had no way of answering. She turned her left palm down on her thigh so that the incision area would not be visible.

The doctor took the blood sample from the arm she offered and filed it for testing. He checked the data pad for the results of the other tests.

"Your blood pressure is elevated," he said with an air of curiosity.

"I was exercising," she suggested, hoping it was enough.

He murmured that he understood her. "You said you needed a cold pack. Why?"

"I strained a muscle," she said.

"Where?"

"In the exercise room," Jennifer answered.

He gave a look as though he was not happy she had stated the obvious. "Yes, we've established that. _Where_ on your body, Cadet?"

Jennifer knew she could not tell him it was anywhere on her lower body, such as a knee or ankle. She had forgotten to think that far ahead in her quest for one simple cold pack and had shown no sign of a limp when she first entered the infirmary. She had no choice but to show him. There was little she could do to hide it, because the injury was starting to be debilitating. All she wanted was a lousy ice pack, but she could not even handle that simple task.

She blew out a frustrated sigh. "My right side, sir."

The doctor reached out and carefully lifted the hem of her tank top. He did not have to lift up very much to see the genesis of discoloration that plagued her skin. When the injured area was fully revealed, he gave a scowl.

"What happened?" he demanded, focusing on varying shades of purple, black and blue on her skin.

_How does one explain something like this_, she mused inwardly. "A close-range stun, sir."

"Here, in this facility?" he said, alarmed.

"No, sir. It happened prior to my arrival. I didn't think it was that serious."

The doctor apparently thought it was serious enough, because he launched a series of procedures to determine the extent of damage. Several scans later, he gave her the results.

"You have a hairline fracture in one of your ribs. You're lucky that's the worst of it. There very easily could have been internal bleeding from such a wound."

_Unlikely_, she thought, because Helene Tobias was a master of procedure, action and anatomy. The shot was well placed to avoid such damage.

"If you'll just give me a cold pack, sir, I'll be on my way. I'm due to report to Doctor Peterson in the morning."

He shook his head. "You're not reporting anywhere for a few days," he informed her. He made a note on a data pad. "I'm restricting you to quarters for some recuperation time."

"Sir," she protested, "I'll be doing light duty with Doctor Peterson. It's just… very important that I complete my tasks here."

Doctor Arlen saw the determination in her eyes. He relented, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine, report this morning as ordered, but I want to see you back here in two days for an evaluation. In the meantime, I'll treat what I can and give you pain medication."

"And an ice pack?" she dared to add to the list.

"And an ice pack," he droned, as if he had lost his ability to tolerate her gallantry in carrying out her orders.

He left her to sit on the examination table while he gathered some treatment supplies from the outer area. He returned quickly and applied a binding to the bruised area, adjusting it when she indicated it was a little too snug for comfort.

Doctor Arlen reached into the pocket of his lab coat and withdrew a small bottle that contained pills. He handed it to her. "These are for pain. Don't take them during working hours, though," he admonished. "They'll put you out like a light."

Jennifer took the bottle and thanked him for his services. She then requested permission to be dismissed, which was granted.

She got on the lift for the fourth floor, stepping off when it arrived there. She walked down the hall, pausing here and there to read the different information displays of Dread activity. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the luxuries of information flow that it was almost decadent in nature to have access it in such abundance. Jennifer read every word, every nuance of data that was there, committing it to memory and cataloging the state of the empire based on the statistics. Dread holdings were growing as the machines began to take over and control nearly all sectors. They had the advantage in sheer numbers, whereas the human beings were faltering in their ranks. That was not to say they were not fighting well against the mech forces, but their limited flesh bodies would only last for so long before they succumbed to injury, disease, age or ultimately death. The Dread empire was strong, growing in power each day, advanced by technology and the sheer will of the machines. There was little in the way of stopping the destiny that had already been put in motion.

Back in her quarters, she opened the closet and placed the vial of pills inside it, hiding it in the shadows of the back right corner. She had no intention of ever using them because she could not afford a moment of dull reflexes. She had to be perfect in everything she did from that point forward. If there was pain, it only meant that she was awake to feel it.

And sometimes, pain was the only way to know one was alive.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: As always, thanks for reviewing and keeping me on track. It's been a complete joy to write this lately, and I hope that translates to the words you're reading. This show deserved better than it got, and I'm so happy to see that I'm not the only one who thought it had really fertile ground for storytelling! Oh, and no, this hasn't been edited. So, PM me any mistakes if you have the time. Thanks!**

**Chapter 26**

The dream repeated its disturbing images over the next several days. There were variations, but the premise was still the same, still haunting her with imagery she could not shake. Sometimes, it was Bofor who disapproved and Tobias who applauded, but it was always Bofor who pulled her from the water and the clutches of drowning refugees. The players rearranged themselves in her dream state, but the message of disappointment and loss remained constant, not matter who was conveying it in her mind. Each time, she would retreat to the exercise room to run until the ache in her side was simply too much to bear. By then, she was tired enough to fall into a dead sleep once she returned to her quarters. She thought about the pain medication sitting in her locker, but she refused to allow herself to even look at the bottle. If she could not endure the pain of a simple fracture, she was not fit to endure the other hardships that went along with being a leader. She had to be strong and will herself to overcome and adapt to her situation. It was what she had always done from the moment she realized she was better than anyone in her class at the academy. She had already attained most of her goals, such as being a Youth leader, but she wanted more. Jennifer was willing to do whatever she had to in order to sit in the pilot's seat, and that included accepting assignments like the one she had endured with Doctor Tobias and Alaceda.

The lack of sleep and the constant pain took a toll on her ability to concentrate in the forensics lab with Doctor Peterson, though. Between the fatigue, pain and her constant worry that the incident with Overunit Pryatel was going to rear its ugly head at some point, her thoughts zipped from one worry to another in constant succession in her mind. She took notice of every nuance of her environment, anticipating that the repercussions of the incident would manifest at a moment when she least expected it. She feared it would be while she was immersed in a dissection of data left behind at Alaceda, where she had the best chance of redeeming her poor performance while stationed there.

That one chance seemed like a given improbability. There was not much to discover in what equipment and evidence had been retrieved from Alaceda. Doctor Tobias had been so thorough in her wiping of the data from the computer core that absolutely nothing remained. It might as well have been a virgin piece of equipment that had never been plied with any programming whatsoever. This did nothing to improve Doctor Peterson's demeanor, obviously. If anything, his disposition had gone downhill considerably since the first time she had laid eyes on him in Volcania, which she had not believed possible before being assigned to him in Med Lab One. His level of frustration grew every day with each turn where he found himself outwitted by Tobias and her methods. At times, the man with thinning hair and less-than-acceptable hygiene habits physically threw items that proved useless in his quest to find residual information. He needed that information to please Lord Dread, but he came up short every time.

One fortunate habit he had was mealtime. No matter what portion of the investigation was in progress, Doctor Peterson would call a halt to the process like clockwork to make his way to the dining hall twice a day where he would sit alone in a corner. He took thirty minutes to make steady work of his meal while reading a data pad. It was the one thing Jennifer counted on as a respite to the tantrums he threw when thwarted by Tobias' prior planning. It also gave Jennifer a chance to mingle with other Youth assigned to the research station. They were a wealth of stories and inside information that proved invaluable in the short time she had been there. She learned which officers thought they were in charge and who actually held command authority.

Through conversation and research at the information terminals, she also learned that every research floor served a purpose. The one she where she worked was geared toward biomechanical studies, while the floor above dealt with viral research. The layouts were consistent on each level. The outer area was used for simple laboratories and administration. The inner core, however, was extremely secure, requiring biometric scans to even enter the anteroom of them. The core was where real research took place, where great advances in technology were born and applied to the machine world. While she had never been to the core of the viral unit, she heard from other Youth that quite a bit of testing went on its center, conducted on captured rebels who provided a solid supply of test subjects. The research pods were secure, each enclosure capable of holding test subjects quite securely while work was carried out on them. A subject was placed on a modular chair that could be folded back into a gurney if needed. This could be done without releasing the subject at all, which was invaluable in preventing any uprisings among the captives.

While the viral studies core was in constant use, the core of her level was ominously empty, a stark indication of their lack of progress in examining the evidence. She had access to it, but there was no need to take stock of the center pods that were empty. It was enough to simply review the internal data on its structure and layout. Doctor Peterson had nothing to test because Doctor Tobias was, as Overunit Pryatel had aptly put it, a lot smarter and had made sure he was left with nothing to use.

As usual, Doctor Peterson broke for lunch precisely on time at eleven hundred hours. Jennifer followed a few steps behind him, not having the wherewithal to endure his constant rants of how inadequate she was and how unfair it was to his career aspirations to have been burdened with her as a research assistant. He seemed to enjoy berating her at every opportunity, pointing out what he considered flaws in her performance instead of accepting blame for his failures. But for once, she actually had an appetite and craved a solid meal. Whether she was hungry or not, she relished mealtimes because it allowed for fellowship with other Youth who labored under similar tyranny.

One Youth, in particular, was enjoyable. Cadet Horvath, two years behind Jennifer and still young in the face, proved quite entertaining in his diatribes of tribulations he experienced in the operations center, the command hub of the facility. He had a gift of words that seemed to encompass the collective feelings among all the Youth serving at Med Lab One. Each of them could recount the errors in judgment and research their supervisors made on a daily basis, but Cadet Horvath was able to express those frustrations it in such a way that all the Youth began to feel quite superior in intellect to those who bore power over them, thanks to his unique verbal gift. When it came to operations, the Youth were quicker and more calculating than their traditionally trained commanders. Even some of the commanders admitted this from time to time, although it was not a pronounced fact, lest they lose their position or power. The truth remained, though, and that played a large part in the confidence of the Youth in their mission to serve Lord Dread.

As she entered the dining hall, Jennifer sensed a feeling of anticipation in the air amid the fifty or so cadets that had gathered to eat. The smell of the day's food wafted through the air, enticing her even more to eat the first good meal she had had in days. Voices were at a minimum in the usually busy hall, hushed into excited whispers as information meandered from one cadet to the next. She got her tray of food and joined the table where Cadet Horvath was leaning forward to talk to three other cadets seated with him.

The four of them immediately stood at attention as she approached, a respectful courtesy shown to cadets of superior rank that she found refreshing and comforting as she tried to regain life as she knew it.

"As you were," Jennifer said, returning them to their meal.

She sat down next to Cadet Horvath, who inched his way to the right to give her ample room. He bent forward toward two cadets who sat across the table from him, engaging them in a continued conversation after taking note of Doctor Peterson sitting on the other side of the dining hall.

"And that's not all," he said excitedly. "They're calling it a 'purging'."

Jennifer's ears perked at the word. "Who's calling what a purging?" When he hesitated, she pressed him for an answer. "Explain yourself, Cadet," she said, keeping a stern edge to her voice because that was one of the most effective ways to remind subordinates of one's authority.

Cadet Horvath sat straight at attention, realizing he had become too comfortable around Youth Leader Chase, to the point that he had foregone many protocols, at ease in her presence most of the time.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, keeping his voice even lower than it had been addressing his fellow cadets at the table. "A decree was issued by our lord this morning. Anyone over the age of twenty-one is to be purged from our ranks. Our lord suspects a conspiracy among the older loyalists." He leaned in closer to her. "Word has it overunits and Youth will soon take over all major operations in the empire."

She was shocked by the news but cleared her face of the look it brought quickly so as not to look confused in front of the cadets. "Twenty-one?" she asked, seeking confirmation.

"I saw the orders flash through the operations center, myself. It was directed for Overunit Elan's eyes, but there must have been an immediate dissemination order, because the mechs units arrived shortly after that and took all the command officers into custody."

"I haven't heard of any such order," Jennifer said, keeping her voice low in case it was all just a rumor.

"You will," Horvath said. "They're doing it one unit at a time here. The sweep is supposed to be finished by the end of the day. They're already transferring overunits to the lab for each section. Overunit Elan is completely in command of our entire facility."

"What are they doing with the ones they take in the sweep?"

"For now, they're being taken directly to Volcania for questioning by our lord. Where they go from there is anyone's guess. Even the flight services have been grounded and taken into custody," he said.

"All of them?" she asked, taken aback by that last bit of information. Her thoughts flashed to the flight captain and his co-pilot who had been her salvation from Overunit Pryatel. A cold feeling settled in her veins and iced her to the core that such honorable pilots would be victims of the eradication.

"With the twenty-one year age limit, that pretty much eliminates any of those officers. Almost all of the flight service is from the old days," he supplied.

_Or before the sixth generation harvest_, she suddenly realized, finding that the time calculation coincided perfectly with the age limit set by Lord Dread. For the first time, she wondered how many more generations had been born or were in the process of being grown. The possibility was staggering. The current contingent of overunits had come from the sixth harvest and had been educated in the Youth Corps and academy. Anything older than twenty-one years superseded that first successful harvest. The loyalists were soldiers who had splintered from the world governments to support Lord Dread's quest for a new order in its birth, but ones like Overunit Pryatel were hardly loyal like the soldiers in her cadre or the younger overunits. Overunit Pryatel was inclined to forsake his oath if it got him something he wanted. It also went great distances to explain why nothing had come of his demise aboard the transport.

Jennifer was trying to digest all the information at once, her appetite suddenly gone. "What started all this?"

Cadet Horvath hesitated for a moment but proceeded with respect to her question. "From what I've heard, it's because of everything that happened at Alaceda." He cast his eyes downward, as if to prepare for her wrath at mentioning the name at all.

She knew she had to be careful how she reacted, especially around subordinates, and especially around the likes of Cadet Avery. The circumstances were more precarious now than ever. One misstep could spell disaster for her both professionally and personally. This purge, whatever it was, could easily envelope anyone associated with anyone Lord Dread suspected as being traitors. She was already in the minds of too many who could harm her career aspirations of being a pilot in her lord's service. It was not enough to take the word of a second-year cadet.

Doctor Peterson sat alone on the other side of the dining hall, apparently unaware of what was raining down on Med Lab One. Or, if he was aware, he was hiding his apprehension better than anyone she had seen. He mindlessly poked at the food on his tray as he read a data pad he had brought along with him. Jennifer had no idea what he could possibly be reading, since they had not managed to cull even on piece of usable data from the Alaceda systems. The entire recovery operation had been a wash so far, but Doctor Peterson remained undaunted, wanting and desperately needing to find success in the endeavor to keep in Lord Dread's good graces and to perhaps exact some revenge on Doctor Tobias for having had to work in her shadow for so long.

"Youth Leader Chase," Cadet Horvath braved quietly, "what will you do if Doctor Peterson is taken in the purge?"

She wondered that, herself. But she steeled herself and answered him like a Youth Leader should. "I'll follow our lord's orders to the letter, as will all of you," she said, eyeing each cadet to drive home the point.

"Of course, Youth Leader," Cadet Horvath answered in contrition. "I hope you never find reason to doubt our loyalty."

"Be true to your duty, and I will never have a reason to doubt your commitment to our lord."

The rest of the meal period passed an agonizing slowness that she could have cut with the knife on her tray. She kept a surreptitious watch on Doctor Peterson, but he gave no indication of his awareness that Med Lab One was quickly changing hands. He got up, left his tray on the table for some menial worker to clean up, and began to leave the dining hall. Normally, she would have taken the time to bus her tray, always believing that she was responsible for all facets of her conduct, but today was an exception. She excused herself from the other cadets at the table, not bothering to explain why she had to leave so abruptly. They had all seen Doctor Peterson leave. The reason was unspoken among those at the table and, indeed, all in the dining hall. As she walked out of the area, she realized that Doctor Peterson was the only senior staff member present. The rest of the dining guests had been Youth or overunits assigned to the facility. A countdown was ensuing, and Doctor Peterson had been at the very end of the timeline.

He shuffled down the hall toward the lift as he always did, never fully picking up his feet from the floor so that the bottom of his boots were worn with friction, the heels cocked at odd angles that suggested he walked with his weight to the inside of his feet. He had one hand in his lab coat while he held the data pad with the other, reading as he walked, subconsciously navigating people and objects in the hall until he had reached the lift. Doctor Peterson blindly reached out for the call button, missing the first time but finding the mark the second.

Jennifer caught up with him just as the doors to the lift opened and he stepped inside the car. They rode down to their level and returned to the lab without a word. It was not an unusual way for him to be, since Doctor Peterson hardly communicated to her except to issue commands or deliver an insult of her abilities.

She returned to a crate she had been unpacking earlier in the day and resumed cataloging its contents. Her attention was hardly on her work as she kept watch on the doctor and his activities. The purge, as Cadet Horvath had called it, was not all bad, she thought. Doctor Peterson was not that good a scientist, and she had never heard him express any hardened loyalty to Lord Dread. If she had to guess, Peterson was riding a wave of good fortune being in the service of the lord of the machines. He had virtually no restrictions on his research, only he was not that good a researcher. He had the best in equipment and technology, but he was not good enough to utilize all the tools given to him to create something spectacular in the name of their lord. Jennifer felt he berated others so that the attention was drawn away from his own inadequacies and projected on to someone less able to fend off the barbs.

Jennifer decided it best to work as though she had not heard any of the scuttlebutt from Cadet Horvath. What was going to happen was inevitable, if the information had been correct, of course. Doctor Peterson had tasked her with cataloging the contents of a storage container that had been brought from Alaceda, and that is exactly what she decided to do.

The contents were eerily familiar. She reached in and picked up the goggles that Doctor Tobias had used on Ian to help his speech. Jennifer could have sworn there was a slight vibration in them, like the past was trying to escape, but they were well broken and useless. Doctor Tobias had made a variation of the NP1A4 interrogation unit that was being used on prisoners to help Ian regain control of the part of his brain that had somehow formed incorrectly during his gestation. It was a remarkable piece of equipment that gave him normal speech capabilities. Tobias had never meant it to be a permanent solution. Instead, it was designed to retrain Ian's brain to respond as it should have. There were many instances in medical history where parts of the human body had been retrained to assume the role of parts that had failed. Doctor Tobias had used an interrogation device in a benevolent way that was unlikely to ever be appreciated by the empire.

She thought about Ian, wondered where he was and if he was even still alive. She had not heard anything to suggest he had been killed or captured. She was sure the overunits would have made a point of telling her there had been others besides those in the mountain who had been captured. It would have been a significant capture, and the news would of it would have been proudly transmitted any units in the vicinity of the operation. While she had no idea how or where, she was almost positive he was alive and had escaped the sweeping overunits. She hoped that was true for his sake. There was no telling what changes were on the horizon for the empire, especially when it came to prisoners of interest.

Jennifer looked up at Doctor Peterson. He was still intently reading his data pad, oblivious to her reverie. After a moment, though, somehow he sensed she was watching him and met her eyes.

"What?" he snapped, lowering the data pad slightly so he could see her over its thin profile.

"Nothing, my lord," she replied, feeling a bit sorry for him. She had been informed of the fate he faced, but he had no idea what awaited him by the end of the day. For all his rudeness and audacity, did not seem fair that he was ignorant of the life-altering surprise once the overunits came to collect him.

"Then get back to work!" he ordered, the pitch of his voice rising just short of a shout. He pointed at the storage box she was cataloging. "It doesn't index itself, Cadet."

"No, sir," she answered respectfully.

It occurred to her quite suddenly that she had been unwittingly associating with suspicious superiors for some time. Jennifer seemed to bounce from one problem to the next. Still, while Tobias was the subject of investigation, she proved the most intriguing of all. Despite the rigors of enduring quite a bit of physical punishment during the Alaceda assignment, there was an underlying and unique interaction with Doctor Tobias that was unlike any Jennifer had ever experienced with all her internships with other units. Doctor Tobias had required Jennifer to think, to use deductive reasoning that many times contradicted the training that was drilled into each cadet from the very first day of training. Emotions, as faulty as they were, were encouraged and even demanded by the doctor. It was a matter of trying to satisfy too many fronts of obligations, which appeared to delight Doctor Tobias to no end as Jennifer struggled to compensate.

She put the goggles on the desk beside her, making a mental note to compare its architecture with that of the ones currently in use in detention units across the empire. Jennifer had not had an opportunity to see the military model, but she felt it would be a good analytical exercise to catalog the differences, even if she had do it in her off hours. At the very least, it would give her more of a sense of the technical styles Tobias used when creating new technology. The goggles might even serve as a reverse engineering model some day, if anyone could figure out how they worked exactly.

There were other things in the box, too, including some pieces of the neural interface connections Tobias used to connect herself to Lford Dread's network. The difference between Jennifer and Doctor Peterson was that she had seen the device when it was still in one piece, not smashed and bent into useless pieces of metal and medical material. Any circuitry that could have proven valuable was destroyed, lost forever unless Doctor Tobias decided to share the technology with the empire. All of the time they had invested lay clumped in a box with no possibility of reconstruction. It was garbage, worthless remains of a once-great project.

Jennifer heard the footsteps of the mechs down the hall long before they had reached the lab door. Doctor Peterson was so immersed in his data pad reading that he did not alert to the staccato steps that moved in unison down the polished corridor. She picked up the goggles and put them back in the container before the security code was entered at the entrance and the doors to the lab swung open. An overunit stepped inside, followed by a squad of mechs.

Doctor Peterson was instantly enraged that he was being distracted by such a spectacle. More to the point, he had no idea it was coming, which was even worse.

"This is a restricted area, Overunit!" he bellowed, taking in the entourage that had arrived without warning. He stormed toward the overunit, stomping across the floor to her with all the authority he could muster. His chest puffed out with indignation, and he pointed toward the door. "Get out before you contaminate this lab!"

True to Cadet Horvath's prediction, the woman who had come to take custody of Doctor Peterson was no more than twenty-one years of age. Anticipation thrummed through Jennifer as she realized the purge was a reality. The empire was eliminating its very weakest members, even though they had served for an extended period of time. It was the perfect opportunity to rid the ranks of anyone who was not fully dedicated to Lord Dread's vision.

The overunit did not oblige him with an answer. She motioned for the mechs to take hold of him, which they did immediately and efficiently. When Doctor Peterson tried to shrug out of the hold of the machines, the overunit pulled her weapon and aimed is squarely at his head. He stopped his struggle instantaneously at the sound of the weapon powering up dead center between his eyes.

"I'm Overunit Wilkes," she announced, she said, holding the blaster rock steady in his face. "Doctor Peterson, by order of our Lord Dread, I hereby place you under arrest for crimes against the empire."

Doctor Peterson's eyes almost crossed as he tried to focus on the emitter in the barrel of the blaster that rested neatly against the bridge of his nose. His mouth was open in astonished shock. Tiny beads of perspiration began forming on his forehead and upper lip, a typical fear response by weak individuals. He made no sudden moves, lest he be rewarded with a blast that would separate his head from his body. Still, his lower lip quivered with stress, and his already pale skin had blanched completely of color.

"You will go with these units to be returned immediately to Volcania for questioning," she continued.

Overunit Wilkes let the barrel touch him just a bit longer than was necessary before she lowered the weapon and holstered it. One moment longer, and the doctor might have fainted.

"Get him out of here," she ordered the mechs, disgusted that the doctor had not even put up a fight.

The two machines on either side of Doctor Peterson increased their hold of his arms, clamping their mechanical hands on his flesh to secure him. They stepped forward, taking him with them. They marched him through the threshold and into the hall. The doors to the lab swung closed, and the entire mech unit fell into step, headed toward the lift.

The overunit looked at Jennifer. She removed her polished leather gloves from her hands, pulling one finger at a time with a deliberate slowness. "At ease," she said, dropping down into a chair. She propped her feet up on the desk, crossed her ankles and unbuttoned the top three silver discs on her tunic. She shoved her gloves in to the pocket of her trousers. "You must have questions," she said.

"I do," Jennifer answered honestly. The truth was, she had a couple thousand questions. However, she had to settle on the most important ones. "What will become of Doctor Peterson?"

"The same thing that will become of the thousands we're taking into custody today – they'll be questioned, where we'll extract as much knowledge as we can. Then, we'll dispatch them and rid the empire of their filth, just as Lord Dread has commanded."

There was that word again, _dispatched_, Jennifer noticed.

"Even the flight service?" Jennifer asked, feeling disappointment well inside her so strongly that it seemed to cloud the corners of her vision.

"That's an area out of my control. There's nothing to be done for them, although I do regret they've had to be included in the purge. They've proven valuable many times for us. However, they fall outside the age limits prescribed by our lord." Wilkes became pensive. "I seem to remember reading in your file that you had applied to them for your training after graduation. Is that right?"

"Affirmative," the cadet answered. "I was waiting on an answer from the flight school commander." The fact that the flight captain had all but assured her he was waiting for her arrival in his service made the fact sting all the more. She had been so close only to have it ripped away at the last moment without warning.

Wilkes gave a dismissive click of her tongue. "No sense in worrying about it now," she said. "There's no need for it anymore. My sympathies that your intentions can no longer be fulfilled, but there is a very good reason for all this."

"Our lord has a different strategy planned?"

"We're going to inundate the rebels with our mobile forces," the overunit said proudly. "We've increased ground troop production tenfold over the last few months, and we're ready to crush what's left of the resistance with sheer force."

"If there is no more flight service, in what capacity will I be serving our lord?" Jennifer dared to ask, although she had a feeling she already knew the answer. She was going to be part of the ground forces, the one thing she never had a desire to do in all her training. She hated bivouacs and everything associated with being in the field. Every one of the exercises jangled her nerves, and she felt out of place and out of control during them. She had to rely on others to fulfill their duty to the same degree she did, which seldom happened, presenting a liability to her every time they ventured into the open.

Overunit Wilkes picked at minute piece of lint on the arm of her uniform, flicking it away until it was no more. "You'll be serving under me," she said, confirming Jennifer's fears. "This level is the only one in Med Lab One where the central hub is not in use. It's slated to become the premiere screening station for the region. High-value prisoners will be brought here for enhanced questioning and interrogation. You will assist me in that process."

Jennifer looked around the room at all the useless junk in the boxes. "And what of Doctor Tobias' research and what was collected from Alaceda?"

"There isn't time to continue this little quest of Doctor Peterson's," Overunit Wilkes said. "Frankly, he hasn't produced a single result in all his efforts to analyze her work, which is why he not only exceeded the criteria set by Lord Dread but he made a special list of those to be taken into custody today no matter their age." Then she added with a wince, "And he has a foul smell about him. That alone should condemn him."

Overunit Wilkes clasped her hands behind her head, looking weary. "As far as I'm concerned, these boxes can be burned."

"Understood."

"Good!" the overunit said with gusto, removing her feet from the desk and letting them smack down onto the polished lab floor in a loud crack. "I have two prisoners being transferred here later today. They're sedated, so there shouldn't be too much trouble getting them into the hub. Think you can handle that, Youth Leader Chase?"

"Absolutely," Jennifer promised. "It will be my honor to serve you and our lord."

"That's what I like to hear." Overunit Wilkes said solidly. She stood up and stretched once again. Then she buttoned up her tunic and checked her appearance in the polished surface of the floor. "I expect efficiency from you, Cadet," she said. "Others may tolerate mistakes. I do not."

"Understood, Overunit," Jennifer said sharply, coming to attention again.

"Report tomorrow for field vaccinations. We'll be heading into the rebel strongholds as soon as we have credible information. The filth that's out there breeds disease that has no place among Lord Dread's chosen."

Overunit Wilkes reached into the pocket of her trousers and withdrew the black leather gloves. She slid them on, her fingers rigid until the material was taut over her hands.

"And now," Wilkes said with a sigh, "there are two more levels to clear. Believe me when I say it's been a long day."

"I'll begin preparing the hub immediately," Jennifer vowed, although she was not entirely certain what that entailed. There were always the information terminals and detailed files for carrying out such orders, though. She had every intention of following the instructions to the letter and even exceeding what was expected so that her new commander would not have any reason to find fault with her efforts. "Will there be anything else?"

Wilkes gave a quiet snort of amusement. "An end to rebel annoyances would be nice," she remarked. "For now, I'll settle for my new station being set up according to my standards, which you'll find in your orders. My needs are very precise, and I expect them to be under control by the time I return this evening."

Jennifer nodded. "It will be done," she promised.

"Very well," Overuit Wilkes said. "I'll be back around nineteen hundred hours."

The overunit left Jennifer standing at attention, wondering just how many would be dispatched from their own ranks before Lord Dread felt the empire was secure. It did not matter that the rebels were easy targets. He was going for total control as any victor would and should in such cases. There was no room for any more deviation from loyalty to Lord Dread in such precarious times, nor would she allow it to interfere with her future, no matter what that held.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted, but real life decided to intervene… again. Dammit.**

**Chapter 27**

Once Overunit Wilkes had departed, Jennifer sat down at a terminal and found the standing orders left for the hub preparations. Each chair in the hub was to be tested for operability, and monitoring devices were fto be verified. There was also a note that a shipment was to arrive within the hour containing new equipment. That meant removing all the other cargo containers in the room, no matter what they contained. It seemed like a waste of potential to simply throw out what was in them, but there was the underlying fact that Doctor Tobias had so far destroyed everything of use they had examined. There was no sense in retaining junk.

For good measure, though, she took a cursory inventory of what remained. Jennifer returned to the box where she had last been working. The speech goggles lay where she had dropped them on top of the box's contents in surprise when Overunit Wilkes had come to collect Doctor Peterson.

When she looked into the box, she realized there were many things that belonged to Ian in there, including his data pad, a toolbox, and a proton spanner. She pulled out the spanner and examined it. It was finely balanced, a perfect piece of technology used by flight mechanics to service anything and everything on a flying vehicle. It was a coveted tool that was given only to the most qualified to use it. Mechanics maintained spanners with great care, bestowing as much attention on the tool as they did the craft it serviced. It was a meticulous work of technology, modified by its owner to conform to the function it was destined to serve. Each spanner was unique, a metaphor of its owner whose mission was always to improve on perfection. From what she had seen of Ian's skills, he was more than qualified to use one, although he obviously had no loyalty to the empire that had given it to him.

Jennifer took the spanner to the desk and sat down to examine the tool. Its matted silver surface evidenced much use in Ian's hands. Hydraulic grime was sandwiched in the grooves of the handle, a contradiction to every flight mechanic she had ever known. She shook her head in dismay, truly perplexed as to how he could have shown such disregard for such a magnificent and crucial piece of technology.

It was different from other spanners she had seen. Although she had never had the privilege of actually possessing one, she knew the primary design well. She longed for the day she would have her own, because there were hundreds of things she could envision herself using it for in her daily work. There was a bit of irony that Ian owned a spanner when she was clearly more qualified by destiny to have one, but he had outshone her mechanical abilities by a good measure. That much she had to admit. Even with the spanner, he had modified it to work with a number of systems, not just vehicles. It clearly had a data interface port built in parallel to the modular cutting and fastening tip that came standard with each tool. Jennifer recognized its shape to fit into empire locking mechanisms. Its mere presence violated several regulations, both in terms of security and the fact that modifications had been made to issued equipment.

All the same, the augmentation was mesmerizing. She removed the side panel and discovered a logic chip that interfaced with the port. The board was a ragtag collection of piecemeal technology woven together to accomplish the port's task. Sadly, while it was brilliantly designed, it was still clearly a violation of all regulations.

On the other hand, Jennifer considered, there was no one to prosecute for such modifications. As far as she knew, Ian had somehow escaped Dread forces waiting outside the mountain. He was responsible for the alteration, but no one would know about it. She had an unabashed appreciation of technology, and it would have been illogical to destroy a piece of technology that could potentially be of use to the empire down the road. Overunit Wilkes had ordered all the containers destroyed. How would anyone ever know the spanner existed in the first place if all the containers had been destroyed in the reclamation unit?

Jennifer looked around the lab, assuring herself that it was empty and that no one was observing her. She knew there was no surveillance in the lab. Doctor Peterson had taken specific measures to ensure no one could observe his work or what was discovered in the recovered evidence from Alaceda. As such, no one would ever see her replace the cover on the spanner and smoothly slip it into the small work duffel that carried her other work supplies.

She put in a call for a technician to haul away all that had been brought from Alaceda, satisfied that she was not in danger of destroying anything of use to Lord Dread. She kept the spanner, though. If there was no more flight service, odds were good that the flight mechanics had been caught in the net of the purge, as well. No one would begrudge her a bit of nostalgia of a sevice she would never be able to join.

The technician arrived promptly, followed by two others to complete the job. They were well over the age of twenty-five, proof that the purging had applied only to those in positions of authority and not the labor force required to carry out the various sundry tasks in the empire. They were menial labor for a reason, and it was simply because they were not among Lord Dread's chosen. Their potential to do harm was limited by their very nature and access to things that could damage the well-being of the machine world was closely monitored and controlled. Most of all, they were expendable and could be replaced if circumstances warranted.

"Take all of this to reclamation," she ordered.

The first technicians seemed unsure of the order. She could not blame them. There was a lot to throw out, all of which looked sophisticated. For a moment, she thought about the first time she had stepped into one of Doctor Tobias' labs and was told to do much the same thing. She wondered if it had been for the same reason – to prevent Lord Dread or Doctor Peterson from examining her work without her knowledge.

"All of it, Youth Leader?" the first asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes, all of it, Technician," she replied, still grappling with her own order to destroy all that remained of Doctor Tobias' work.

"As you wish," he said. He motioned for the other technicians to begin moving the containers out of the room.

In mere minutes, they and the containers were gone. She was alone in the lab for the first time since coming to her new duty station. All that remained was the duffel containing the spanner. There was no more Doctor Peterson, no more futile attempts to salvage anything from technology that had been broken beyond compare, and no more reminders of her lackluster performance at Alaceda.

There was nothing else to do but bring up Overunit Wilkes' orders and begin preparing the hub for the prisoners who would be arriving that evening. She transferred the instructions to a data pad and brought it with her into the hub area. The program protocols were already in the main computer system and were ready for her to implement. That took practically no time at all, and Jennifer felt a delectable sense of accomplishment that she craved. It was a pleasing sensation to fulfill an order that had no underlying meanings, no double entendres attached. Overunit Wilkes was specific in her orders, and they were to be carried out to the perfection expected of a Youth, especially a leader.

Where her thoughts frequently strayed to Alaceda and all that had happened there while she was assigned to Doctor Peterson, she realized she had gone nearly two hours without so much as notion once she had engrossed herself in her new orders. She had not even taken notice of the pain in her ribcage. The protocols were intricate and required attention to detail as they were applied to the hub's systems. Security procedures had to be installed to govern access to the area – an access list upon which she was pleased to be included. There were security rounds for the mechanized units, and that process had to be implemented into the hub's activation. After that, there were the day-to-day tasks to be scheduled, such as prisoner feeding times and medical facilities management. A dead prisoner was of no use to anyone. Proper monitoring of vital signs was essential, necessitating the need for integrated biofeedback that could alert the interrogator if certain limits were being approached in the course of questioning.

The hub, when she finally entered it, was bathed in muted lights that emanated from under the grated floor. Six pods were arranged in a circular fashion, with a tunnel that passed through the collective, returning to the outer area by either route. The doors to each pod were open, allowing her to perform the required tests of the restraint and monitoring systems. The chairs within were strong, able to hold the strongest of prisoners, keeping them secure as interrogations were performed.

The patients, the orders noted, would be transported in an unconscious state and put into the pods before they awakened. It was a completely secure way to transport dangerous rebels who worked night and day to undermine the efforts of the empire and the inevitable dawn of the machine age.

She closed the door to each pod as she finished the inspections and made the required adjustments. A view slot allowed interrogators to look in on their subjects without having to enter. This was valuable, she knew, because video feeds often did not translate the tiny nuances of fear or stress that became visible when the human body was stressed. Even slight twitches of the eyes could be missed on global video, whereas the investigating officer might glimpse something more – a sound, a scent – that could turn the war in the empire's favor.

Jennifer had not been privy to the process performed on a prisoner. Although her cadre had assisted in rounding up rebels, the events that followed were left to qualified overunits to carry out in places where the Youth were not yet privileged to serve. She had only been able to read summaries of the procedure. That was all about to change, though, and she was going to be fortunate to be a part of the first integration of Youth into crucial military operations. It was different than being on the cutting edge of technology with Doctor Tobias. This was about being on the ground floor of sanctioned operations, legitimate efforts to bring about Lord Dread's vision as it was meant to be.

There was one final check that needed to be completed to fulfill all of Overunit Wilkes' orders prior to the arrival of the prisoners. The tunnels that ran through the various sections of Med Lab One were crucial to the maintenance of its complex systems. Each was a conduit for the vital systems that made Med Lab One the premier research facility in the sector. It was an obvious choice to become an interrogation point. The inefficiency of transferring all prisoners to Volcania sapped precious time intelligence was good to act upon by the empire's forces. The new interrogation hub would increase Lord Dread's effort to defeat the rebels that caused endless anarchy and delayed the impending perfection that would soon rule the world.

A tunnel ran parallel to every floor, creating separate passages for each that converged at central access points on the north and south ends of the facility on the first floor. Material conduits eventually joined into main feeds that ran internally to the structure. Jennifer left the lab and entered the main corridor on the floor. The access to the tunnel system began on the first floor of the facility and required her to use the lift.

She expected more activity until she realized that many of the staff had been suddenly swept up for questioning only a few hours earlier. The sprawling court area of the first floor gave it an open feeling. Its high ceilings and perimeter balcony made Jennifer feel vulnerable to attack at any moment. Several mechs walked a route in the upper level, taking inventory of those who occupied the first floor. There were three of them, walking in a counter-rotational pattern, each taking the exact number of steps before turning and repeating the same number in the opposite direction. It was something Jennifer found to be annoying in the older mech models. They could be predictable at times. Even the newer models were still struggling with interpretive algorithms that governed their response to their environment. The programmers felt the need for consistency outweighed the time it would have taken to drive more complex responses in the machines. So far, the gamble had worked. The machines were making successful incursions against the rebels in sheer numbers that usually overwhelmed any opposition the empire's forces faced. That, she knew, could not be counted on to bring about total victory. Machine development had to continue progressing toward complete dominance of its enemies if the war was to be decisively won.

A technician walked across the court and greeted Jennifer with a slight dip of his head. "May I be of assistance, Youth Leader?"

He was tall, with dark hair and dull brown eyes that shifted nervously from side to side, as if constantly scanning his surroundings.

"Where is the access to the maintenance tunnels?"

He was prompt in his answer, taking a few strides as he spoke. "Right this way," he said, inviting her with his hand toward the maintenance access way. He entered a code into the panel adjacent to the door. She heard the tumblers inside clank as they released their hold on the steel mechanisms that secured it from intrusion.

The technician paused and looked at Jennifer, though his eyes never fully focused on her. "Would you like me to accompany you? I'm well-versed in these tunnel systems."

There was no harm in letting the technician come along for the inspection, she thought. If anything, it would make the task go more quickly and efficiently if she needed to find something in particular.

Jennifer nodded her assent to him, letting him enter the tunnel and lead the way.

"What is it you need, exactly?" he inquired.

She referred to the data pad. "I need to inspect these conduits for materials and vulnerabilities," she said, showing him the list of materials Overunit Wilkes had ordered.

"Follow me, please," he said. "The vertical access is this way."

Jennifer walked behind him a pace as he began a monologue of facts about the tunnel system.

"As you can see, the tunnels are used to feed various gases and chemicals to the appropriate levels, as well as ventilation" he said, pointing casually at the pipes running near the ceiling of the tube. "They're the centerpiece of the facility, in my opinion, because nothing would run without this supply."

She looked ahead to see that there was really no end to the system as it faded into obscurity in the distance. A steady column of air blew gently against her back as air was pumped through the channel.

"How are they supplied?" she asked, wanting to know everything there was about the unseen backbone of Med Lab One.

"Behind us," he said, thumbing backward, "there's an access to the surface and external tanks where the chemicals are stored. We get supplied every week by our lord."

"I see," Jennifer said. "And what about security measures?"

The technician gave a paused, confused look. "There's no need in these tunnels," he said plainly. "The perimeter on the surface is regularly patrolled, and it's unthinkable that any rebels would be able to penetrate that protection."

He was right, of course, that the outside patrols were more than capable of fending off an attack with great force. Med Lab One was a prized facility among all satellite bases in Lord Dread's empire. Great emphasis had been placed upon its protection, and not always in overt ways. It would be of no use for the rebels to be able to see all defenses. Jennifer knew from her tactical studies that many defense systems were hidden amid the rubble that was once the city. They could be brought into the fray as needed without any warning to the enemy.

"That's true," she said, as though she had already thought of the fact.

He led her to a hatchway and bent down to open it. He entered a code on the security panel that was embedded in the heavy metal cover. He grunted at the weight of the seal as he pulled the hatch over, the metal clanging heavily into the concrete floor. "We'll have to climb down to your level," he said. He stood to the side and waited for her to take the lead.

Jennifer climbed down into the hatch, taking each rung one at a time until she reached the floor of the next level. She looked up to see the technician pull the upper hatch closed and reengage the locking mechanism. Then he proceeded down the ladder to the next hatch. They repeated the process until they reached their destination.

The technician locked the last hatch and climbed down to where Jennifer stood. He was out of breath, which was understandable, and beads of sweat gathered on his dark brow. The hatch covers were heavy, requiring quite a bit of strength to pull them closed from underneath, but she suspected it would be easier to push up on them once they were ready to return to the surface. Not that she had any intention of taking on that task, of course. That was the technician's job, one she did not envy in any way given the weight of the hatches.

The inspection was simple and proceeded much more quickly than she had anticipated. It was a matter of confirming that the supply lines were in order as Overunit Wilkes had prescribed. Jennifer and the technician walked to length of the tunnel until it dead-ended well past the entrance to the lab. She had estimated the length they had walked and had seen the lab doors through the ventilation grates that ran at even intervals through the tunnel.

"That's it," she announced to him. "Let's head back up to the surface."

He hedged for a moment, and she knew he dreaded the prospect of shouldering the hatches and the climb. She could not blame him, as it was clear how much effort it took to pass from one level to the next.

"There's a faster way," he mumbled quietly. He cast his eyes to the floor, as if he immediately regretted his insight.

Authority was an art, she had been told in her leadership classes. It was finessed from the experience of being berated by superiors. She had definitely received those lessons in her career as a Youth, enough to know that there were times to exert wrath and times to put the moment to use. She contemplated her options and what value the technician was to her. He knew more about Med Lab One than she did, having been sent into its core to do the work that was beneath others who had rightfully taken their place in the empire. For all he lacked in potential to be perfect, he did know more than she did about the inner workings of the facility. She could use that to her advantage.

"Technician," she said, making sure she kept just right weight in her tone to assure him she was not going to turn on him but that she was in charge, "I need to know everything there is about this system, including how to get in and out of it."

He looked up at her, and she could see the worry on his face.

"It's your duty to protect our lord's interests," she said, softening her voice even further to coax him into trusting her. "I need to know of any vulnerability to this level."

"It's nothing, really," he said finally. "We just remove the vent grates and take the lift back to the top, that's all."

"There are no sensors on them?"

"Why would there be? They're just vent grates," he said, confused. "Besides, they'd have to get through the hatches first, and those codes change every morning."

"Of course," she said, though her mind raced with infiltration possibilities. Still, the technician had a point. The hatches secured each floor and funneled any potential infiltrator through one point and one point only. There were other systems to detect intrusions that would pick up the slack if one were to fail.

He shook his head, ashamed. "My apologies, Youth Leader. We'll go back the proper route."

"No," she said quickly, stopping him before he could turn from her. It was important to know exactly how one might not only infiltrate the level but also escape, since prisoners would soon be taking up residence in the hub. "I don't think treating ourselves to a little efficiency it out of order." She even managed a smile for him. "Not just this once."

A relieved look flood over his face once he accepted that she was not going to berate him or turn on him. She had gained his trust that his knowledge would not be a detriment to his career or his very life.

The technician backtracked to the closest panel and knelt down on one knee. He motioned for her to do the same so she could see the locking mechanism that held the barred grate in place.

"It's just these latches here," he said, pointing to them. "Just release them and the whole thing lifts out of the frame."

The latches slid to either side silently, and the technician took hold of a bar in each hand. He gave a small, sharp pull, and the grate came away cleanly from the enclosure. The grate material was a light but strong alloy that was employed regularly throughout the empire as a basic building supply. It could be made into anything – floor grates, ventilation covers, and even entire outer shells of facilities. The most important use, though, was the production of mech body parts. While Jennifer had never had a vested interest in the composition of the alloy, she did appreciate the efficiency with which it was put to use.

She slid through the opening in the vent and stepped out into the hall of Overunit Wilkes' new interrogation level. The technician soon followed, stopping briefly to pull the grate back into place. He reached through the opening between the bars on either side and slid the locks home.

He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, a pleased look on his face, as though he was pleased to know something a superior did not.

"Thank you for your insight, Technician," she said, not really meaning it at all. "That will be all."

He gave a crestfallen nod with his head as he realized his moment in the spotlight was done. He parted his lips as if to give a rebuttal. Then he simply nodded and turned on his heel, heading to the lift to return to the surface.

She watched him until he was out of sight. The corridor remained empty of any other personnel, as it should have been. When she returned to the lab, a new container was waiting for her. She opened it and found several items, one of which she recognized instantly as a variation of Ian's speech goggles. Tobias had spoken of the NP1A4 unit as an interrogation device, so it should not have been a surprise to see it among the other implements that had been delivered to the hub. The device, though, brought her thoughts back to Alaceda for just the briefest of moments until she was able to brush them away, safely back in the structured confines of Youth responsibility. She took solace in her return to what she had known, for the first time able to begin seeing Tobias for the traitor she was. It was no great task to include Ian and Chief Bofor in that category, either. Even the captain on the transport had broken the rules that governed the behavior of all officers and cadets in Lord Dread's empire. There was simply no excuse for venturing outside the prescribed manner of action.

Jennifer reviewed the checklist once more, pleased that she could verify each and every point had been completed according to the overunit's specifications. Thoughts of promotion danced through her head as she was able once again to visualize her future, this time with a renewed sense of success that she had enjoyed for most of her older Youth life. She had a destiny. All the roadblocks had suddenly been removed. Even Doctor Peterson, who was the least of her problems, had been eliminated from the picture.

All she had to do now was be better than anyone else at what she did. She had been that before, and she knew she could do it again.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Overunit Wilkes was neither early nor a second late. She was precisely and perfectly on time when she strode into the interrogation hub.

Jennifer stood at attention behind the desk when her superior entered the room.

Wilkes stopped in front of the gunmetal grey table and casually removed her black leather gloves, habitually slipping them off one finger at a time. She looked down toward the hub expectantly, craning her head to cast an eye into one of the sectionals. Her attention then turned to Jennifer.

"All went as planned, I presume?" she queried.

Jennifer involuntarily straightened. "No complications, Overunit."

"Good," Wilkes said. "I should think a youth leader of your caliber could handle a simple task."

Wilkes sat down in the chair across from the desk. Jennifer remained standing, having seen the tactic dozens of time end in disaster for junior officers who sat with their superiors.

The overunit watched Jennifer for a moment. The corners of the older woman's mouth turned upward almost imperceptibly at the cadet's wisdom and experience.

"Be seated," Wilkes said finally.

Jennifer sat, posture in perfect alignment as had been drilled into her since her earliest memory. Wilkes was deliberately silent, making the air in the room feel thicker with each passing second as she studied the cadet.

The overunit set a data pad on the desk. She steepled her fingers, touching them to her chin in contemplation. "Would it surprise you to know your loyalties to our lord are being questioned, even at this very moment?"

A chill thrilled through Jennifer's arms, settling in her forearms. The feeling was becoming all too familiar – one shock after another. No one had ever accused her of such a thing, and it stung at her core. She had no choice but to try to mount a defense.

"If you're questioning my time with Doctor Tobias…"

"Doctor Tobias is dead."

Another wave of cold blood coursed through Jennifer's veins. There was no stopping her lips as they parted in shock. The reaction was not lost on Wilkes.

"You seem taken aback, Cadet," Wilkes said. She stood and walked around the table, her polished boots clacking against the immaculate floor. The overunit stopped behind Jennifer.

"I didn't expect our lord to carry out the punishment so quickly," Jennifer answered, commanding her voice to remain steady.

Wilkes leaned down, so close that Jennifer could feel the overunit's breath against her ear. She said in a quiet voice, "I think you're shocked she's been executed at all." She leaned in even closer, even quieter. "I think you were growing fond of the good doctor. I think," she said, barely above a whisper, "your mind has been poisoned by her propaganda."

Jennifer's heart thudded in her chest at the accusation. Her loyalty to Lord Dread had been so unwavering all her life, but now everything she had worked for was in question – her very life was in question.

"I think," Wilkes continued in that whisper, "your thinking may have become tainted after spending so much time with that garbage."

Wilkes hunched down at Jennifer's side, as if talking to a child. "Do you know what our lord did to Doctor Tobias? He cut off her leg so she couldn't run. He made an example of her, and we put it on all the vid feeds in every town we could. We sent it through her precious rebel network. Anyone who knew her knows she's dead, and now they know they can't run from our lord."

The questioning was effective and frightening. Jennifer could have dealt better with corporal techniques than what Wilkes was doing. Every word the cadet might utter as a reply would be scrutinized. There was no doubt the exchange was being recorded for later review. That was standard procedure, but that was not so bothersome.

What floored Jennifer was her memory racing back through a thousand snapshots of her time at Alaceda with Tobias.

"_What do you like to do?"_

"_I like to fly."_

And now, Tobias was dead. The only person who had ever asked Jennifer that kind of question was no longer in existence.

There was no time for lingering over - even mourning? - that fact, though. The pressing matter at hand was that she was being interrogated by someone whose military career had been molded to be the best at extracting information from a subject.

She steeled herself against Wilkes' brilliant interrogation, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, not daring to look at the overunit. "Then our lord carried out swift justice."

Wilkes smiled at the perfect answer. "Yes, he did, didn't he?" She stood and leaned against the edge of the desk, folding her arms.

"It won't take long to break the prisoners," she continued. "They're weak. Once I have the information I want, we'll rid our lord of one more dangerous rebel cell. You will assist me in that endeavor."

"As you wish."

"As I _command_," Wilkes said sharply. "I will not have the top cadet in our ranks poisoned by filth like Tobias. You will get yourself back in order, Cadet, and you will fall in line. Is that understood?"

Jennifer kept her eyes straight ahead, stoic and perfect. "Understood."

"As soon as we get what we need from the prisoners, we'll strike."

"If I may," Jennifer ventured, wanting desperately to get the conversation into tactical mode, "what information do the prisoners have?"

Wilkes seemed pleased to talk strategy. "The rebels have a radio network they use communicate between their cells. Each one of the prisoners is from a different village we suspect harbors the network. The first to break will be the first we bring to our lord's justice."

Radios. Jennifer thought back to Ian again, to the safe houses where the radios were hidden. While it was possible to get a general location based on a signal, pinpointing the exact location was impossible. Even if a strike unit managed to get close, the rebels would shut the radio down and move it, effectively cutting off the ability to track its location. Despite that, no one relished a mech unit bearing down on their settlement for any reason. That was why the network was reluctant to continuously broadcast when Tobias was moving the refugees out of the mountain.

The overunit examined a monitor to see how the interrogations were progressing. "The beauty of it all is that Tobias has given us the very tool we need to extract that information. I assume you're familiar with the device."

Jennifer was, but in a much more benign way. Ian's goggles were made for fixing his broken speech patterns. Wilkes used them as a weapon.

"I am," Jennifer said. She had read the operational brief about their use.

"It's quite ingenious," Wilkes said, ignoring the fact that Jennifer had followed orders and had read all the material. "The irony is in the inventor and that we use it for far better purposes than she had intended. We carefully craft an artificial reality with them. The subject's mind has no way of discerning that it isn't real. The possibilities are endless, really. We can present whatever image necessary to obtain the information we want."

Wilkes let the description hang there, allowing Jennifer to mentally supply the more gory details of what that reality could be. The wearer could be exposed to the most heinous images and would not be able to break the grasp of the cyber universe on the brain.

"It shouldn't be long now," Wilkes continued. "These prisoners are old and weak."

"Yes, they are," Jennifer agreed. It was standard practice to extract information from the weakest segments of the rebel network. That tended to be the very young and the aging. The six pods held three men and three women, further playing the odds that men tended to crack first when presented with the prospect of those they were supposed to protect getting killed. The only difference between old practices and this new technique was that the prisoners were real in the old, and so was the killing. The new technique was just as convincing and required far less work. It was no longer necessary to round up the supposed loved ones of the interrogation subject.

Wilkes scanned through the surveillance feeds one more time and straightened. "I'll be in my quarters. Continue to monitor the prisoners for information. Wake me the moment you have something."

Jennifer stood at attention as the signal was given that the officer was about to leave the room. "Understood."

Sleep, Jennifer knew, was not coming any time soon. The day was just beginning.

The overunit headed for the door. She turned and looked back at Jennifer. She gave an icy stare that was accompanied by that disconcerting half-smile of hers. It was a silent indication that there was more to be said about the cadet's time at Alaceda.

"We'll get you straightened out yet, Cadet." Then she was gone.

Jennifer sat down heavily in the chair, feeling an odd relief that the overunit had left. Never had she feared overunits like she did lately. They had always been a source of knowledge and aspiration for her. Now, they were turning on her in ways she had never imagined. Their trust in her was waning, and hers in them. She was seeing them in a new light – one that was not always favorable in these last few weeks.

Despite her distress about Wilkes and the overall situation in Lord Dread's service, curiosity was getting the better of Jennifer. While the documentation to the NP14A system had been detailed, it gave no indication as to what the subject was actually seeing. There was no reference to what imagery was being projected that would be cause enough to make a subject give up the deepest of secrets. The documentation did, however, note that the subject was semi-sedated when introduced to the system. Neural connections through the eyes transmitted an environment the brain could only discern as real, including smells and sounds. This interface was manipulated by the subject's own vulnerabilities – fear, care of another person, or any other weakness that could be exploited. In short, the subject supplied the system's fuel to extract information.

Two hours had passed since Wilkes left. Jennifer's curiosity was growing. She stood and headed for the pod to do a routine check of the interface systems. Mechs had been assigned to guard the area on patrol, though she hardly saw the purpose. Even if the prisoners managed to awaken, they were secured in the pods and had no chance of escape. Still, it was not her place to interfere with the interrogation process, much less to have any contact at all with the prisoners other than what she had already had. So, when she heard one man mumbling in his pod, crying for mercy, she wanted and needed to see what was happening to him. It was one thing to read about the results of the interrogation. It was another to see.

She waited until the mech patrol passed, although she hardly knew why she was nervous around them. She had every right to be in the pod section. Despite that inward assurance, she feigned walking to the other side of the pod until the mech was out of sight. There was no doubt in her mind that the mechs were reporting in some fashion to Wilkes about the cadet's movements. Once the mech was clear, she ducked back to look into the pod to see what was happening to the prisoner.

The viewing port on the pod was not large, but it was big enough so she could see the man inside struggling and crying. His eyes were covered by the interrogation unit, and his face was contorted with conflict.

"Stop! I'll tell you! The radio is in Sandtown! Please… stop!"

And just like that, there it was. There was the intelligence they had been seeking, and she had been there for the moment it was revealed.

Jennifer returned to her work station almost immediately and was about to notify Overunit Wilkes when she stopped, her hand freezing on the console. She had an overwhelming urge to see what it was that the man had been seeing – what it was that made him reveal such crucial information. She knew that Tobias had designed intricate neural interfaces that appeared as reality in the brain. What was it that had this man convinced he needed to betray an entire rebel population?

She pulled up his feed on the monitor. It was a surreal world. Blowing sand in the middle of the desert whipped around a mech and an older woman. The woman had been injured and was crying from burn marks on her legs and arms. They looked as though they had been inflicted slowly, methodically. The mech held her securely, blaster in hand and aimed at the woman's throat.

Jennifer realized the man had probably been seeing those wounds inflicted the entire time he had been in the chamber. His distress was understandable. Human beings, it had been drilled into the cadets, were weak in that way. Rebels were inordinately fond of their kin – even ones not of their own blood line. They mourned injury and loss of those in their clans to the point of vulnerability. The overunits capitalized on this time and again to obtain information.

She looked closer at the woman who was probably the subject's wife or mate. The woman cried out with pain. Suddenly, a squad of mechs appeared from the ethereal cyber library of interrogation tools. They ordered up in a formation Jennifer had seen at Alaceda – a firing line.

Jennifer's mind lost all touch with reality as she was thrust back to the mountain. She saw the carnage all over, with dead bodies piling up as the mechs destroyed one being after another. There was no prejudice in their action. They were equal opportunity killers, dropping their targets with mechanized precision. She heard the gasps and the screams as each fell to the ground. She saw their eyes, frozen in a death stare that cut through her very being and could have sworn she felt the heat of the blasters as they fired on the civilian rebels.

She returned to reality with a start. Jennifer reached for the desk to steady herself on shaking legs. Her heart pounded, though she could not fathom why the memory affected her so. They were rebels, and they were rightfully dispatched.

There was that word again! Even she had been using it, if only in her mind. Her fists slammed down on the table at the conflict of it all. She could hear the man in the pod pleading and begging the imaginary mech units to not execute the woman. There was not much Jennifer could do to spare him the inevitable moment, short of ending the program, which would have been outside her jurisdiction. So, she did the only thing she could, which was to wake up Wilkes.

The few minutes it took for the overunit to arrive in the hub seemed interminable. When she finally strode into the control center, she looked pleased with the news that one of the prisoners had finally given up some good information. In fact, she had gotten the exact intelligence she desired from him.

That left the question as to the fate of the rest of the prisoners. Jennifer inquired what would be done.

"Let him go and dispatch the rest," Wilkes said concisely.

"Let him go?" Jennifer asked, not following the reason for the strategy. "Won't he return and warn the village?"

"He'll try," Wilkes said, "but he won't make it on foot in time to make any difference. By the time he gets back to the rat-infested hellhole he calls a home, we'll be back at base eating breakfast. Besides," Wilkes added, "it's fun to watch them when they realize their hardest just wasn't good enough."

Wilkes looked at the monitor and saw the cyber mechs lined up in dispatching formation. She reached for the control panel, her fingers hovering over the command board. She gave a slight chuckle and tapped it, ordering the cyber mechs to open fire.


End file.
